A Sort of Sartie Story
by tis.my.art
Summary: Sartie is real. That is, Sam and Artie. As a pairing. Don't believe this can be? Let's go back to the beginning. This story will take you episode by episode, scene by scene, through the Sartie romance, making sense of the story with everything you did - and didn't - see on Glee. Read. Watch. Believe. Episodes completed so far: Grilled Cheesus. Updated Daily.
1. Prologue: Monday

It was the Monday of the second week of school. Artie Abrams woke up.

All of the past week, he had woken up thinking "Sophomore. Finally. Now I'm really no longer at the bottom of the heap. I can't be."

This morning, however, was different. Different, in that, when he woke up at 6:00 AM that morning, as per usual, he was thinking something different.

Maybe it was because it had been established, thanks to Jacob Ben-Israel & Co., that the Glee club was still the bottom of the hit list. The bottom of the miss-list, too if there was one.

Or maybe it was the sixth sense his Grandma was always talking about – since he was little, like, before the accident little, she had told him how he was a psychic child.

Artie wasn't sure which of these was the case, or if either of them were true, but he did feel different that morning. As he went through his morning routine, as he wrestled on his clothing, he couldn't shake the feeling that today was going to be a good day.

His Dad had cooked breakfast, his Mom was on the phone with his older sister. "Oy vey," he heard her saying. "Well, he was a schlob anyway. Don't worry about it. Oh, alright, Artie's up. I'll talk with you later, okay? … Yes, you too. Muah." Nancy Abrams hung up the phone and turned to her son. "Good Morning," she said to him, walking by and kissing him on the head.

"Morning," he responded. "Rebekah broke up with Yonatan?" Yonatan was Rebekah's boyfriend.

"No, he's still behaving well."

"The good Jewish boy?" Artie's dad checked.

"That's the one."

"We need to have him over for dinner again."

"Yes, we do."

"ANYWAY," Artie interrupted. "Who's the schlob then?"

"Oh, her physics teacher. Flunked her."

"Flunked her?" Benjamin Abrams asked his wife. "Rebekah?"

"Mhmm. He was a schlob."

"Well then."

Artie ate his breakfast and drank his juice. "Thanks for breakfast, Dad," he said to his father as he carried his plates to the kitchen.

"Thanks for clearing your place," his father responded.

"Mhmm," Artie responded, popping a mint and grabbing his backpack. "There may or may not be glee club after school today, I'll let you know."

"What?" his mother called, running to the doorway to say good-bye.

"I might be home late," he said.

"Alright. Will you see Tina today?"

"Mmmm yeah, I will," he said.

"Good. Make sure you check with her about our plans for Rosh Hashanah at the end of the week. Okay? Synagogue and then dinner at their place or ours. Check please?"

"Um, Rosh Hashanah, yeah, I'll check."

"Thank you!" she called, as he rolled down the front ramp.

"Yep yep!" he called back, throwing a wave.

He made a mental note to ask Tina about Friday, thankful he didn't go to the same synagogue as Jacob Ben-Israel, and hopeful about today.


	2. Audition - Lunch

When he saw Rachel in the hallway, he realized what he had forgotten. They were performing infront of the entire school today. At lunch.

_Ugh._ Maybe today wasn't going to be such a good day after all_. Sorry Grandma, not psychic._

At lunch, Artie gathered with the rest of New Directions outside the outdoor dining area.

Quinn was walking around, distributing caps for everyone to wear. "Cedes's orders," she was saying. Artie pulled his on. "Looking fly," Quinn told him.

"Thank you, you as well," Artie responded, almost laughing. Quinn moved on to Tina and Kurt.

Artie shifted in his chair. He was, indeed, nervous about the upcoming performance.

Don't misunderstand – Artie enjoyed performing very, very much. And he was good at it, too. But he also knew a thing or two about audiences. Receptive audience = good. Non-receptive audience? Less so. And, well, the McKinley High student body fell into the latter category.

But this performance wasn't his choice. It was the co-captains of the glee club, Rachel and Finn, who, along with Mr. Schue, had insisted that this was the way to attract new members, as they were down since Matt had moved away. So Artie supposed it wouldn't hurt. Even if he feared the potential onslaught of food and/or debaucheries.

So there he sat, in his New York T-shirt wearing his chain, cap, and thankfully loose-fitting pants. He remembered those times last year where he had had to pull on those incredibly tight jeans. Do you know how difficult those are to get on? They're difficult, even if you have the use of your lower extremities, of that Artie was sure. In other words, it was nearly impossible for him. I mean, he could do it, but the extreme effort resulted in only a barely noticeable outcome. There had been one time, and one time only wear it hadn't been a difficult task.

Actually, it might've still been difficult, he'd just been hopped up on those wicked energy tablets.

Rachel snapped him out of his reverie. "All ready?" she asked him.

"Hmm?" he responded, then, realizing what she had said, nodded. "Yep." He did his best to smile confidently.

"Good," she said. Then, glancing around, she clapped her hands twice. "Hem. HEM." she started, trying to get everyone's attention. "HEM!" Most of the group turned to face her. "Alright, so we are going to go out there all together. _I_ will be in charge of the radio, Tina, Kurt and I will go and sit or stand on tables. You know, to get people's attention. Finn, Artie and Mike will be walking around, I mean-"

"Continue," Artie put in. Everyone knew what she meant.

"Right, sorry, You guys will be... intermingling with the audience when Artie starts the rap. It will then move onto Finn, and then to Mercedes and Puck, who will be coming in from the upper cafeteria doors." Rachel continued to go piece by piece through the planned choreography. They hadn't actually rehearsed it, but she'd told them her plans like, 100 million times.

"Everyone understand?" she finally said. There were a couple subtle nods and 'yessirs'. "Alright," she clapped her hands. Again. "Let's go show them true talent!"

With that Rachel Berry smirk on her face, the marched out doors. Or she did. Everybody else, Artie included, sort of sighed, and followed.

Once they were in place though, Artie felt that energy that is performance surging through him. He was suddenly alert, eyes darting through the crowded tables to try and eye prospective candidates for New Directions membership. And then it got to his part, and he was rapping.

During his rap, Kurt and Mike followed him through the tables. When the first chorus was over, Artie and the guys made their way over to the stairs.

This was his final place in the song, the huge stairs. This was the center of the rest of the choreography for him, sitting and singing at the bottom of the steps, facing the audience. Almost subconsciously, he began scanning the audience.

Most people, to his dismay, weren't paying attention, but there was one, he saw, who was.

Artie had never seen the guy before, but, then again, McKinley was a large enough school that there was _always_ someone he hadn't seen. Although, because the guy - a handsome, blond lad, presumably very tall and athletic - was tapping his foot and smiling along... well, chances were that he was new.

At one point, the young man glanced over at Artie. Artie, ever charismatic, smiled at him. Did that hello-nod. The guy smiled back.

Artie blinked away, trying not to blush. Something had... clicked, fluttered, something when they had made eye contact. Artie didn't even notice that there wasn't applause when the song reached its end. His mind was spinning. He continued dancing, but that was only on the outside. Any intensity a bypasser might feel radiating from his performance was from something rather different within.


	3. Audition - Call

Artie got home that evening to no one in the house. A note was posted on the fridge, right at his eye level.

"Emergency surgery. Should be home by 7:30. Love, Mom & Dad." His parents worked at the local hospital and there were often such emergencies. His dad was a researcher and mom was a surgeon. His mother would come home during breaks in her day and go back for the surgeries, such was her contract with the hospital. Occasionally she would work a 40 hour shift at the hospital, but that wasn't regular for her. So on most days, his dad would stay at work until his mom was done with her last assignment for the day, and then they'd come home together. Today was one of those days.

Artie opened the fridge and found a plate of spaghetti prepared for him. He was microwaving it when his phone began ringing.

"Hello?"

"Hi Artie," it was Finn.

"Hi Finn." Finn wasn't the best at talking on the phone, which Artie understood. "...is everything okay?" he prompted.

"Okay? Oh, yeah, it's fine. Why?"

"Just wondering why you're calling."

"Oh right. I think I found our next glee club member."

"You did? Who?"

"He's on the football team. He was totally into our performance today, and then, when he was showering before practice – which I don't understand but whatever – I heard him sing."

"He singing when other guys were in the showers too?" It was only after he said this that Artie made the connection. They were talking about the same guy. The blonde, athletic, handsome, smiling guy.

"No, he was the only one in there, well except for me-"

"-You were alone in the shower with him?"

"No, I was spying on him. I mean, listening to him."

"Did he look good?" Artie realized what he had said to late.

"Blonde, broad shoulders, built – wait why do you care?"

"Sound, Finn, I said sound. Did he SOUND good?" So it was the same guy.

"Yeah, really good. Like I said - our next member. I almost began singing with him-" It was the same guy. The smiling guy.

"You didn't, right?"

"No, no. Of course not."

A door opened, and Artie heard his parents come in. "Artie? Hello? We're home!"

"Anyway," Finn went on. "We should, like, go to him tomorrow and get him to join."

"Yeah – listen Finn, can I talk with you more about this tomorrow? I have to go."

"Oh, sure."

"Thanks, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yep."

"Bye," Artie said, and hung up.

"Hi Mom! Hi Dad!" he called into the house.

His parents came into the kitchen. "Hello," his dad said.

"Were you on the phone with Tina?" his mom asked him.

"Tina-?" Artie was puzzled at her immediate jump to conclusions. Then he realized. "Mom...I completely forgot."

"What did he forget?" his dad asked, picking up the spaghetti Artie had heated up and eating it.

"Dad, that was mine –" Artie started, as he watched his spaghetti disappear.

"To talk to Tina about Friday," his mom said. "Right?"

"Yeah," Artie told her. "No thank you," he said to his dad, who was handing back the half-eaten plate of spaghetti. "I've lost my appetite."

"Is everything alright?" his mother asked him. "You look flushed."

"Yeah, I'm fine. Long day, I guess."

His mom checked his temperature with the back of her hand and a kiss on the forehead. "Don't feel warm," she said.

"I know, I'm fine," he responded.

"Sorry baby," she said. "Listen, go take a shower and then come back and I'll have some food for you. You should eat."

"Alright, Mom," he said, and headed off to the showers.

_Showers., h_e thought. _The boy can sing._

_Built,_ he thought. _I need to get to know this boy._

(He also needed to talk with Tina, about Friday, but, once again, he didn't think of that till later.)


	4. Audition - Lie

Artie and Finn met in the hall the next day, in between classes.

Finn didn't know it, but Artie had set himself a new goal: Getting to know the boy. It turned out his name was Sam.

"Sam Evans," Finn told him. "Learned his name at tryouts yesterday."

"I need to get on that team," Artie half-muttered to himself.

"What?" Finn asked, not sure if he had heard right.

"I'd really like to try and be part of the team. Or something. I, um, feel left out."

"You haven't felt left out before?"

"Well, it worked for Kurt when he was feeling excluded for being gay."

"Being gay is different than a handicap, Artie," Finn said as he put his books into his locker. "Besides, how do you play football in a wheelchair anyway?"

"I have to be on that team, Finn." Okay, Artie regretted _that_ line immediately. How desperate was he?

Finn, books in hand, closed his locker. "Dude, what's this about."

_I think I have a crush on the new boy. _"Tina," he said. His voice was filled with the crackle of lies. "She… dumped me for Mike Chang." Artie shifted his eyes back and forth, hoping Finn hadn't heard anything about the break-up and therefore wouldn't recognize the lie. "They fell in love over the summer. Asian camp."

That was over-sharing. Artie had learned in his psychology class, a clear sign of lying. And Asian Camp. Ugh. How racist was that? The story he used to paint a picture of the situation was even worse. He'd have to do something nice for Tina to make up for it. Oh yeah, and he had to call her about Friday.

But at the moment, Artie was grateful Finn didn't take psych. Artie was over-painting a horrible picture.

They more or less continued talking all the way to English, where Finn wanted to know details about the break up.

It wasn't exactly a lie – they had broken up, Tina and Mike had been counselors at a camp together, Tina and Artie did talk about Mike Chang's abs and Halo on the first day of school…

…But the break up had been mutual, on the last day of Artie's freshman year. They had both wanted to call it off. She hadn't dumped him, of that he was sure. He hadn't known she was together with Mike Chang until the first day of school, but that was something different.

Something completely different. Hopefully Finn didn't spread what Artie was telling him around.

Finn pushed Artie through the halls after class.

"Dude, I'm sympathetic for you, I just don't see you on the football team."

They turned the corner, and Artie saw Sam. For some unexplained reason, he couldn't back off his utterance of earlier. His voice also got louder and seemingly jumped a squeaky octave.

"Imagine you were pushing me in this big hunk of metal down the field at full speed," he said. _Big hunk? Really?_ "The centrifugal force would be too much to stop. I'd be like –" his voice caught. They were approaching Sam. Artie shifted his gaze, lowered his voice. "A medieval battering ram."

Finn thought about it for a moment. Artie had found that big words were persuasive with most people. Finn was no exception.

"Dude, you'd be like a human cannonball." Finn stood straight up. "That would be awesome!"

"So you'll help?" Artie shot back, his eyes squarely on his target. His handsome target, that is, who was standing at his locker. When Finn didn't answer, Artie broke his gaze to look back at him.

"Sure," Finn said, "but you gotta help me first."

_No problem, _Artie thought, as they went full speed ahead towards the new kid.

"Hi," Finn said, as they approached him. Finn let go of the chair to step towards the potential recruit. "I'm Finn, and this here's Artie,"

Artie felt some sort of adrenaline rush through him. He smiled broadly, lips pursed in nervousness, and gave a little wave. Looking up and the blonde young man, Artie swore he saw a smile back.

"I know who you are," Sam said. "You're, uh," he almost smiled. "The Quarterback."

"Exactly. Which makes me very cool."

Artie remembered he shouldn't stare the guy down and took a break to glance at Finn.

Just in time, because Finn glanced down at Artie right as he said, "And we'd like to talk to you about Glee club."

A smile appeared on Sam's face. He smiled and looked down at Artie.

"When?" Sam asked, after Finn had explained his full proposal.

Artie glanced at Finn. "After school."

"Awesome," Sam said.

_Awesome,_ Artie thought.


	5. Audition - Sam Sings

After his last block, Math, Artie made his way to the choir room. _Good choice on the red shirt today,_ he found himself thinking. _Red's a good colour. For catching the eyes of a man._

He would've liked to think that he wasn't sure why he thought that, but he knew why. He knew why.

Finn, Puck, and Mike were already in the choir room.

"Quick, come sit down over here," Finn said. Mike tilted his head, not sure those had been the right words.

"We're looking intimidating," Puck explained. "A unified force of awesome."

Artie rolled over to right next to Finn. He had just locked his brakes when Sam walked in.

"Hi," Sam said.

"Hey," Artie replied immediately. It was like he couldn't sensor himself anymore.

"Come on in," Finn gestured. Sam walked towards them.

"Stay right where you're at," Puck said.

"Okay…." Sam was slightly confused.

"Tell us about yourself!" Finn told him.

"…My names Sam Evans," he scanned the four boys, his eyes resting on Artie. "I like comic books," he then continued. "Sports. I'm dyslexic, so my grades aren't that good. But… I'm working on it."

"Dude, you're mouth is huge," Puck put in. _I know,_ Artie thought. "How many tennis balls can you fit in there?"

Finn was looking at Puck, but Artie had his eyes fixed on Sam. _Odd question,_ he thought, but at the same time, he was curious for an answer.

"I.. don't know," Sam replied. "I've never had any balls in my mouth. Have you?" he asked, completely serious.

Puck seemed to like this answer. Finn, in awe, shifted his gaze from Puck and leaned towards Artie. "I like this kid," he said.

_I do too,_ Artie thought, not breaking his stare of Sam's figure. "I like his confidence," he asserted. Then, he quickly added, "but the Bieber-cut's gotta go."

This had caught Sam's attention.

"Mhm," Finn said, and stood up to go grab a guitar from the wall.

"So can you sing with that big mouth?" Puck asked.

"I've never really sung in… front of anybody before –"

Puck was standing up now too. "Dude, let me tell ya, chicks dig singers."

Artie decided he should join the group as well, so moved right next to Sam.

"Give it a shot," Finn said, handing Sam the guitar. "We'll back you up, I promise."

_We will, I will, I promise- _it took all of Artie's willpower to not chime in as well.

"What song you got in your back pocket?" Finn tried.

"Um… Billionaire?"

All of the guys agreed to this. Artie was especially excited. He knew the whole rap. By heart. This was his moment to impress.

That is, Sam's moment to show the group what he was made of.

Sam glanced around, at Artie, around before starting.

Artie noticed that the whole first chorus, Sam mostly (only?) mostly looked at him. And his voice was good. Artie nodded at Finn – and to his internal self – in approval. The boy could sing.

_Give it to me,_ Artie gestured with one of his hands. The new kid was good.

And then they got to the rapping part, and Artie dole. it. out.

He put his name into the song, was as confident as ever – but couldn't help glancing at Sam every now and then to see how he liked it.

And then Sam began singing again, and it almost became a duet between them. The rest of the guys were there, the overall energy of the room was great – but it was Artie's and Sam's that were really bouncing off of each other.

When Sam looked away, Artie found himself raising his arms higher, his voice getting louder. When Sam looked towards him, he couldn't help but kinda smile.

And looking towards him was how Sam ended the song, that is, before smiling and looking over at the quarterback for approval.

Sam couldn't help but laugh in excitement. "That – That was really cool," he said, grinning from ear to ear.

Finn nodded. "Nice. So you think you can come and do that in front of everybody?"

"Sure," Sam said. It was Artie's turn to bear a huge grin.

He was glad he had worn a red shirt that day.

He couldn't wait for auditions tomorrow.


	6. Audition - Locker Room

And his mom noticed. "You seem especially happy today," she said over breakfast. When Artie didn't reply, she added, "Any particular reason?"

Her son just shrugged. "I don't know," he said. He tried to look normal. But he couldn't help but smile into his scrambled eggs.

"I know that look," his dad tried. "Is there a special someone?"

"Dad!" Artie nearly spit his eggs back out.

"What? It's just the last time I saw that look was when you had eyes for Tina."

Tina.

"Oh-" his Mom said.

"-my gosh." Artie finished. "I completely forgot to talk to her yesterday."

"Again?"

"Again. I'm so sorry, Mom, it's already Wednesday – but I promise I'll do it today. I promise." He took out his phone. "See?"

"What?"

"I'm making an alert. You know, like go to the bathroom, Physical Therapy. I'm making a Tina alert."

"A Tina alert," his dad chuckled.

"Seriously. I'll talk to her at lunch. Don't even worry," he said. He felt so bad about forgetting that, for a brief moment, he even forgot about Sam.

"You promise?" Nancy asked her son, eyeing him up and down.

"I promise," he said. Realizing he'd been promising the same thing for the past two days, he crossed his heart for an added measure.

"Alright," Nancy agreed. Her son had always been a trustworthy character.

Sure enough, the alert went off right before lunch period. After going to the bathroom, Artie made his way to the table where Tina normally sat. He began eating his lunch, and eventually Tina joined him.

"Hey Artie," she said, sitting down.

"Hi Tina," he replied. And then despite risk of being majorly awkward, he cut to the chase. "So, my Mom's been asking me about Rosh Hashanah this Friday?"

"Right – I almost forgot."

"Me too – trust me." He smiled. "Anyway – she was wondering – you guys are going to the synagogue, right?"

"Yep," she said. "At least, as far as I know. And then dinner at my house, right?"

"Sounds right. Your house?"

"Yes."

"Thanks, that's what Mom wanted to know."

"Cool," she said. "It makes sense to have it at our house because we live by the stream."

"Water-source, right," Artie nodded. "We'll bring some apples and my Grandma's honey."

"Awesome," Tina smiled, and bit into her cafeteria bought lunch. Which, as per usual, was not so awesome. She ended up sharing Artie's sandwich with him.

After lunch, Finn grabbed Artie in the hall.

"Dude-" Artie started. "You can't just grab a person's chair like that." Then, realizing they had changed the course of motion, "Where are we going?"

"The changing room. Coach Beiste is having extra training during our free blocks."

"I don't have a free now. Why now?"

"Why were you talking to Tina at lunch? Were you trying to win her back? You were, right? That's why. Listen man, I just saw her holding hands with Mike, so I know your efforts didn't work. Imma help you win her back."

_Oh man. The football lie. _Artie grew nervous. "Now? I have filming class."

"You can miss it. Come on, I'm helping you with your Tina problem. And the whole team is there _now _for tryouts, so you should come and try out with the team."

"The whole team?"_ Sam inclusive?_

"Yeah," Finn replied. Artie abandoned all thoughts of pulling the brakes. Why not try out?

They entered the changing rooms.

"Hey Coach," Finn began. "This is Artie. He'd like to try out for the team."

The coach eyed Artie up and down, then Finn.

"You screwin' with me?" she asked.

_Uh oh,_ Artie thought. It was already going badly.

"No, no, absolutely not," Finn answered, earnest. "You see, we figured, that, if I pushed him down the field fast enough, the cen… centri-"

"Centrifugal," Artie put in. "Centrifugal-"

"-Centrifugal force would-"

"You're out," the Coach said, cutting them off.

"Wait, w… what?" Finn couldn't believe it.

"You're off the team. Cut. Out." The locker room had gone silent. "You come in here, pushing a kid in a wheelchair, making me look like, like some kinda monster because I have to tell him he can't play? N-"

"No! That's not what was going on - ! Artie-"

"I really wanna play," he put in, softly. The whole situation had gone downhill fast, and although Artie didn't want to go downhill, all he had was gravity and wheels – not very good odds. Under pressure, his mind was blocking on things to say, so he went back to all the reasons he'd mentioned after mentioning the football team to Finn in the first place. "I want my girlfriend back –" _bad move,_ he thought, glancing at Sam. "And I want abs." _Even worse._ He would never live this embarrassment down.

He could hear the guys snickering in the back. Sam wasn't snickering though. Finn went on.

"Yeah! He's like a human battering ram – like Braveheart!"

"You know what?" Once again he was cut off by the coach. "I don't like being screwed with," she yelled. She grabbed him by the arm, and led him away from the mass in the changing room. "Do you understand me!?"

"Dude," Finn said, scared and taken aback. "You're totally overreacting."

Artie watched the scene unfold.

"Did you just call me dude?" the coach asked Finn. She paused. The room was silent. "GET THE HELL OUT OF MY LOCKER ROOM."

She pointed towards the door. Finn didn't move.

"GO!"

Everyone in the room jumped.

Finn ran and grabbed Artie, they rushed out. "THINK THIS IS SOME KIND OF JOKE?" she yelled after them, throwing a rag against the wall.

"I'm so sorry Finn-" Artie started, once they were out, but Finn just shook his head.

"You know what, Artie? Nevermind. Sorry. I have to… go. Work."

Artie watched him walk off. He felt really badly. For Finn, for Beiste, probably, and for himself.

Now he would never have a chance of gaining social status in the school. Much less of winning the affections of Sam Evans. He felt like he was going to puke.


	7. Audition - Audition

Artie hardly slept at all that night. He kept tossing and turning about everything that had gone wrong.

He barely made it through the school day, as stressed and tired as he was.

Glee Club Auditions were after school, and the whole club waited there. In essence, it was two and a half hours of awkward tenseness.

Artie had heard at some point in the day that Finn had had a meeting with Principal Figgins, Coach Beiste, and Mr. Schuester. Needless to say, it hadn't gone well. Finn was still off the team.

For some reason, this had evolved into a weird tension between Finn and Mr. Schue. Artie wanted to, but couldn't talk to Finn about it because Finn was avoiding Artie just as Artie was almost every single football guy who had been there yesterday.

Santana and Quinn had had a huge fight, so that made for a strained tension in the room, to say the least. Rachel too, was being unusually quiet.

Artie also couldn't talk to Tina or Mike, because Finn was there and interacting with them would prove very awkward, and the last thing the room needed was more tension.

So Artie sat there, like the rest of them, and stared at the clock.

At 4:58, Rachel hopped up, pronouncing the session over.

"Well, hate to break it to you, but it doesn't seem like anyone will be joining us," she said. _Was that a smile on her face?_ "So maybe, we should just call it a day."

"We said 3:00 – 5:00," Mr. Schuester responded, but Rachel had started a movement, it seemed. Just about everyone was getting up and going. "It's 4:58," Mr. Schue put in.

Artie watched people leave, one by one. _Don't go,_ he thought, as they passed him.

"Just wait, my buddy Sam's gonna try out," Finn said. "He totally idolizes me."

Even Puck was leaving now. _Please, Sam,_ Artie begged in his head. At the same time though, his gut – or maybe it was his psychic powers – were telling him Sam wasn't going to come.

"Face it Finn," Kurt said. "You're no longer the quarterback. You're not the pied piper anymore. No one's going to want to follow you around, thinking everything you do is cool." Kurt turned on his heel and followed the mass out.

"What about that Sunshine girl?" Mercedes asked Rachel. "I thought you said she could sing?"

"I guess she didn't want to hang out with us losers," Rachel said, and escorted Mercedes out the door.

Finn, Artie, and Mr. Schue were left in the room.

Sam didn't come.


	8. Audition - Friday

Artie was devastated.

He wasn't even interested when Tina told him that Rachel had sent some girl to a crackhouse. It didn't relieve him at all to hear that someone had still been interested in joining the group.

The girl, a tiny Filipina girl with a huge voice, gave her audition the next morning, before school started. It was amazing she could sing that well in the morning. For a moment, Artie forgot his woes. Sitting next to Mercedes, he felt the song, and began clapping and cheering for the girl like all the rest.

This brief jolt of joy though, was made even shorter, when Vocal Adrenaline offered the girl a scholarship to join their team and whisked her away from the group.

In practice after school, Finn gave the group a talk about how they should forgive Rachel, but Artie wasn't really paying attention. It wasn't uncommon for Rachel to do stuff like this, and Finn wasn't really talking to Artie.

Artie had tried to talk with him about the situation, but there was always something else Finn needed to be doing. So Artie sat and listened, then sat and waited while Finn went outside to talk with Rachel. He got a text from his dad saying it would be Tina's father who would pick them up to go to the synagogue, there'd been some delay at work.

So he waited for Tina, and, at 5:00, when rehearsal was over, he sat waiting for Tina to get a call from her dad so that he could get away from school already.

Tina and Mike had music on and were dancing, so Artie moved to the next room when he got a call. From Finn.

"Listen bro," he said."I'm sorry I've been avoiding you. It's just… it seems like I'm permanently off the team. I've lost my quarterback status. So Sam doesn't think he can join anymore."

"Doesn't think he can? Like he wants to?"

"Well, yeah, but he's been hearing all the sh*t people are saying about glee club, and, I don't know… as new kid he doesn't really wanna be part of that."

"Oh." Artie said. "I… I kinda get it, I guess."

"Yeah. Trying to gain acceptance from the team… It's important when you're the quarterback."

"You're –he's the quarterback?"

"Yeah."

"Dude,"

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry Finn."

"I'm sorry too, bro. See you Monday?"

"See you then."

"'K. Bye."

Artie dropped his phone into his bag. Sam was the quarterback. He'd never come hang with Finn… or him… now. Sam would never join glee.

Artie stared through the glass pane at Mike and Tina, but he wasn't really staring at them at all.


	9. BrittanyBritney - Weekend

Tina had been on Artie's case all weekend.

She had called him Saturday morning to ask him if he was all right.

"Is something wrong?" she had asked. "You were, like, quiet the whole evening, you barely sang during service, and you didn't want to play Halo with my and Cousin Phil after the walk. Talk to me!"

Saturday afternoon had been a different story.

"Artie? I talked to Mike. He said you asked the new coach to put you on the football team? Is _that_ why Finn got kicked out? Gosh, Artie, what were you thinking? Have you even talked with your doctor about paraplegic football? I thought there was only quad rugby…"

And later that night again.

"Wait, you said you wanted you're GIRLFRIEND back? What did you mean by that, Artie? Because you should be talking to me if you have a problem with our current relationship NOT the coach of the football team."

"It wasn't-" he began, but trailed off, not finding the right words. "I didn't-"

"Unless you were talking about Quinn? But you were never actually together with Quinn. No, what did you mean Artie? And abs? Aren't your abs as defined as they are going to get?"

"Tina, I didn't mean –"

"What did you mean, Artie? You and I had a MUTUAL break-up, and you are paralyzed from your waist down. You don't have control over half of your abs, and football sure as hell isn't going to build them for you."

When he was sure she was finished, he tried again. "That's not why I wanted to join the football team, Tina," he told her.

"But that was what you said. Or did Mike – and the entire football team – hear you incorrectly?"

"No, no," he sighed. "I mean, I did say that – and it was stupid – it wasn't true, but I was trying to defend Finn, and that's what popped into my head first."

"Lies popped into your head first?"

Artie nodded, then realized he was on the phone. "Yes," he said.

"No wonder Mike said you sounded so pathetic – no offense Artie, my words, not Mike's – but let's face it, you're kind of a wimpy liar."

"I know, I know," he said. "I'm sorry."

"Okay," Tina said, trying to figure out what was going on with her friend. "So we're okay?"

"If you forgive me?"

"I guess, yeah. But just… stop spreading rumours like that, okay?"

"I'll try," Artie said, getting ready to hang up.

"Artie-" Tina said, trying to find the root of the matter.

"Sorry T, gotta go," he said. "Mom's calling."

"Okay well-"

"Bye T," he said.

"Bye," she said, and listened as the line went silent.

Artie received a text from her the next day: _Artie,_ Tina texted. _Are you okay?_

_I'm Fine, _he responded. _On my way to PT though, can't talk now._

And this wasn't a lie. He was on his way to physical therapy. He went every Sunday.

During his session, he asked his trainer, Moe, about joining the football team. Moe didn't seem to think it was such a good idea.

"If you want to do sports, why not para basketball? I mean, I know you didn't want to before, but you can still give it a try, you know."

"Nah, it's not quite like that."

"Football though? Like an able-bodied football team?"

"Yeah."

"I just don't see how it could work. Not without you getting injured. Besides, Dr. Hale would have to sign you off before you officially joined any team."

"But like, a human battering ram…"

"Artie, it's a contact sport. It requires loads of physical contact. You get hit the wrong way, you'll have nasty sores or fluid retention or injuries you don't even know about that could be a helluva lot worse. And if one of those guys falls wrong on your chair, well, their injuries wouldn't be so sweet either."

"I guess," Artie said, as they moved to the bars.

When he got home, he checked his cellphone. There were quite a few messages from Tina.

_Artie, we are still friends. You can talk to friends._

_I just want to know you're all right._

_I'm sorry if I'm prying._

_It's just…. Why won't you tell me?_

Artie texted her back: _Tell you what?_

That evening, as he was falling asleep, his phone buzzed one more time. Startled, he was jolted awake. Once he realized it was his phone, he pulled on his glasses to read what had been sent.

It was a reply from Tina.

_Tell me what's wrong. _

_Why did you lie?_

Artie didn't respond. He quickly took his glasses off and put his phone down. It took him a long time to get to sleep though.

He couldn't tell her, he thought. He couldn't tell anyone.

As far as he was concerned, the situation was now over.


	10. BrittanyBritney - Spears

In Glee Club on Monday, Artie sat isolated. He was avoiding Tina, which was easy enough, because when he came in she had already sat herself in the second row with Mike, and Finn was still kind of avoiding him, so he ended up next to Quinn. Which didn't mean much, because her attention was focused on fellow cheerios Santana and Brittany, but, well, it was something.

Mr. Schue was talking about some guy Artie had never heard of. He wasn't really paying attention, but based on the whiteboard, it was Christopher Cross. Artie was bored, but he wasn't about to look around – he felt Tina's gaze right in his back.

Brittany said something about America, which Mr. Schue seemed to think was only slightly off.

Kurt sounded annoyed, and then he heard Tina speak. Although, he began listening too late and only really caught her saying, "about him."

_About who?_

"Some people think of the term 'Easy Listening' as a bad thing," Mr. Schuester was rambling off. "But I'm gonna let this music speak for itself. You guys love Lady Gaga and the Rolling Stones, and you guys are really good about, putting it all out there," Mr. Schue passed Rachel some music.

She began passing it around. Artie took one, and passed it on.

"But," their teacher continued, "Really good music can also be controlled, and restrained – it doesn't have to attack the audience."

Quinn looked at Artie with a look that said 'What the F is Mr. Schue talking about?' Artie shrugged in response.

Mr. Schuester noticed this interaction. He approached Quinn, personally handing her a piece of music. "You can let them come to you," he said.

Finn, looking over the sheet music, asked something about the content.

Before he could answer though, Kurt popped in. "Mr. Schue, if I may, I think I speak for all of us when I say it's not that we don't love the idea of spending a week on this silky smooth adult contemporary…it's just that, as teens, it isn't really the type of music for us to relate to."

Mr. Schue looked like he was about to respond, but Kurt continued.

"However," he said, "there is a new facebook campaign that has scored over 5 members, who are in demand, that this week, at the fall homecoming assembly, the McKinley high school glee club perform a number by – wait for it – Ms. Britney Spears."

"Yo, Spears is Fierce, yo," Artie said, as the class suddenly became interested. He had half turned in his chair, only to make eye contact with Tina, who was quick to smile at him. Artie quickly shifted back towards the front, turning away from her gaze.

"Kurt, sorry, no," Mr. Schuester refuted. "No. I don't think she's a very good role model."

"But Mr. Schue," Rachel said. "We kind of grew up with her."

"She's literally the reason why I wanted to become a performer."

Don't look at her, Artie reminded himself yet again. He had spent the entire night tossing and turning about her texts, and had gotten so little sleep that he'd been completely out of it in the morning. He wanted to tell somebody what was going on in his head, the deal with Sam, everything, but he didn't want to tell anybody about his crush on a guy, a guy who he, at this point, would never have.

And he knew Tina. She'd use any moment she could find to ask him about it. He couldn't give her that moment.

He had zoned out, but Artie's attention was brought back to the conversation when he heard Brittany say her name was also 'Britney Spears'.

"What's she talkin' about?" he heard Mercedes say.

Brittany explained, and everyone just sort of listened in shock. Mr. Schuester somehow managed to sway the conversation from Britney Spears to Michael Bolton, and once again, Artie zoned out.

His breath tasted foul. He realized that he had forgotten to brush his teeth that morning, in all his stress. Whoops. He hoped he still had a tin of mints in his locker.

"See you guys this afternoon for glee club?" he heard Mr. Schuester say.

"Yep," a couple of people agreed, and Artie zoomed out of the room and to his locker before anyone had the chance to talk with him.

He was really stressed.

And all over a guy.

_How silly,_ he thought, as he popped a mint. But he couldn't shake the feeling.


	11. BrittanyBritney - Stress

He spent all of his Calculus class mulling over how he could get rid of some of his stress.

Talking to Tina was currently out of the question. That, he was sure, would increase his stress. He could talk to Sam, but that would be awkward, and if he couldn't talk to Tina, how the hell could he find a way to talk with Sam. He continued thinking.

What else was causing him stress? Finn. He still felt bad for getting Finn kicked off the football team. He could talk to Finn. He could try, at least. He made up his mind to approach him before Glee club that afternoon. He spent the rest of Calculus and all of the differentials section figuring out what he would say.

His opportunity came to him later that day, in the hall. Karofsky and Azimio had just ripped Finn's jacket in half. Artie couldn't stand for bullying, no pun intended, and his situation with the football team was already as awkward as could be. He decided to intervene.

"Sorry to interrupt," Artie rolled in, thinking, _confidence, confidence._ Azimio had made a queerphobic slur and Finn had thrown a punch. Enough was enough. "Um, I'm actually glad you're here to see this," he turned to Finn, who looked as bewildered as the other two jocks.

"Finn, I just wanted to apologize for getting you kicked off the football team, I just, hope there's no hard feelings." Finn looked from Artie to the aggressors, and back to Artie. Artie held out his hand for Finn to shake it.

It was time to confront said aggressors. Artie turned towards them. "So, what are you guys talking about?" he said, ready for a harsh comeback.

But it wasn't quite what he expected.

"Dude, take him-" Karofsky said.

"This wheelchair kid is in the way man," Azimio countered. "What if I knock him over or something?"

"There's…. something not right about hittin' a kid in a wheelchair," Karofsky agreed.

Azimio took a step towards Finn. "You know, the only thing that's saving you right now is my moral code," he told him. "I don't hit crippled people," he said, referring to Artie. "But I'll be back." He slammed the lockers. "We gon' be back!" he yelled, as the two of them walked off.

Ableism and shotty moral codes aside, Artie was glad there hadn't been a fight. Watching them leave, he felt much better.

Finn, finally safe, shook out the hand he had banged up and leaned against the lockers.

"You're hand okay, man?" Artie asked him.

"My hand is fine, thanks," he said, looking at Artie.

And Artie understood what he meant.

"No problem, thank you," he replied, and headed off to history, which was followed by glee.

If Glee had been weird in the morning, it was even odder that afternoon. Mr. Schue had a good-looking dentist – presumably Ms. Pillsbury's boyfriend, to talk to them about dental hygiene.

Artie was still bored as he was handed the capsule, but at least, now that he had talked to Finn, was less stressed. That is, until he realized he was chewing a plaque detector capsule and hadn't brushed his teeth that day. He didn't need a mirror to know his teeth would be blue.

He tried to crack a joke about being too short for a mirror, but, like all the rest of his recent jokes and excuses, it came off very poorly. Oh well, he sighed.

"There you go, Bluetooth," Santana teased.

Artie sighed.

"All of you with blue teeth will have discounted rates to come to my dental practice this week for a full cleaning. I can send your parents an e-mail with the details," the hot dentist dude informed him. Artie sighed. That included him.

When he got home, his mother had received not one, but two e-mails.

"Fix your legs," Nancy Abrams told her son as he rolled through the door. Artie's legs were leaning to the side, a major danger for sores. He shifted in his chair and repositioned them properly, something he often forgot to do during the day. "That's better," she said. "I got an e-mail from Moe," she told him.

"Moe?" his physical therapist? Artie wasn't expecting that at all. "What about?"

"Some sort of chair he wants to show you? Has he talked with you about getting a new chair? Because if this one is what is causing your chronic poor leg positioning-"

"I don't know, Mom," he cut her off. The poor leg positioning was a result of him being lazy and forgetting to place them properly, he was fairly sure. But he knew that was stupid, as it had caused problems in the past, so he didn't bother explaining.

"Oh. Well anyway, I made an appointment tomorrow second block."

"But that's when I have glee-"

"-If all you guys are doing right now is talk with dentists, I honestly don't see why you need to go," she told him.

"So you did receive the dentist's e-mail."

"I did," she affirmed.

"Thank goodness I don't have to go," he said. "I mean, I only forgot to brush my teeth this morning. It was no big deal anyway."

"When did I say you weren't going?" his mother asked him. "It's a practically free teeth cleaning. How could we not take that up? I made an appointment for Wednesday."

"Oh," he said. "Well then. PT tomorrow and dentist Wednesday?"

"Exactly."

"Yay…." he mock said.

"Yay," she told him. "Now… why didn't you brush your teeth this morning?"

"I was just tired," Artie covered.

"Tired? Is everything okay?"

"I didn't sleep well, is all. School stress."

"If you're sure," his mom said, as Artie turned down the hall to his room. "But tell me if you don't sleep well again!"

"Alright," he called back, even though he was pretty sure he wouldn't. Tell her, that is.

He hoped he'd sleep better.

And he did, a bit, but his dreams were riddled with his remaining stressors. Tina. Sam.

Sam.


	12. BrittanyBritney - Stronger

At physical therapy on Tuesday, Moe showed him a chair.

It had thicker, slanted tires, higher back handles.

"What… what is it?" Artie asked.

"A football chair. This is what you would use _if_ you were to join the football team."

"You called me down here…. just to show me a chair."

"Nah, we can do some physical therapy too."

"So basically yeah."

"Yeah," Moe agreed. "Sorry."

"No, it's okay. I mean, thanks for finding it for me – but I highly doubt it will happen."

"Oh. I mean, I figured, but I'm sorry anyway."

"Yea, me too, kinda." Artie agreed.

"Let's go work on the bike?" Moe suggested.

"Sure," Artie said.

When Artie got back to school, it was lunchtime, and Mercedes filled him in on all of the gossip. "Kurt basically yelled at Mr. Schue for being too uptight."

"Ouch," Artie said.

"Yeah, but – Kurt kinda had a point. I don't get why Mr. Schue won't even entertain this Brittney Spears idea. I mean, even Britney wants to now."

"True."

"Anyway. Kurt got sent to the principal. He has to do detention today and he had to make a formal apology to Mr. Schue, but that's about it."

"Well that's good," Artie agreed. "So otherwise I didn't miss anything?"

"Not unless you care about Christopher Cross." Mercedes smiled at him.

Glee club the next day was semi-interesting, although Artie was filled with a feeling of dread that always took over him before going to the dentist.

Everyone was still talking about Brittney Spears – it was as if it was part of everybody's subconscious, for some reason. Rachel was dressed especially appealing, but when Artie tried to comment on it, as Santana had, he was shushed by Finn.

Artie shushed and stayed shushed, because his newly rekindled relationship with Finn could not be for, well, naught. Also, realizing the misogynistic ways of his joke, he chastised himself for, once again, not thinking before he spoke.

And for the first time of late, although he sat in silence, he wasn't waiting for glee club to end.

He was hoping it wouldn't end.

He really didn't want to go to the dentist.

But before he knew it, he was transferring into Dr. Howell's examination chair, and going under general anesthesia.

They say that these sort of drugs stimulate your subconscious, bring your secret thoughts to light. Artie hadn't paid attention when the others had been talking about their Britney Spears fantasies, and yet, he found himself in his own version.

He was in the hallway at school – it was completely empty, except for him, Tina, Brittany, and Britney Spears. And the hallway smelled like Doritos. It was weird, but in this… dream, he was really happy to be there.

"Tina," Britney Spears was saying. "I can't believe you broke up with such a sweetheart."

_What?_ Artie thought, even though it made sense in the dream. _But she didn't break up with me. I only said she did to get on the football team._

"I know, Britney," Tina said. "Artie, I'm sorry."

_But I'm the sorry one,_ Artie was thinking. But in his dream he gave another one of his weirdly-phrased cover-ups.

"And I'm stronger," he said.

Which, of course, was the cue for the powerful feminist ballad, Stronger.

Suddenly he was on the field, in what seemed to be the football chair Moe had shown him. Finn and Puck were there, and the entire football team.

He was dancing with the football team – like Kurt had, once upon a time – he was working out in the training room. Both at the same time, but, like in all dreams, it kind of made sense.

Then all of the football guys – himself included – joined in a huddle. This is when he realized that, in the huddle, he was right across from Sam Evans. His eyes didn't want to part from Sam's face, but his dream self sang,

"Here I go, on my own, I don't need nobody better off alone," as if he were telling those very words to Sam.

Repeating them, he began to believe it himself. He would grow stronger, he was better off alone anyway.

And right when he began to truly believe it, he found himself alone on the football field. But it was fine, because as soon as he thought of the rest of the guys, they were there. Backing him up, including him, let him lead in their attack.

Each one of the guys helped in lifting him, and his chair, up into the air. From above he could see the bleachers, where Tina sat. She was just far away enough where she could see that something was going on, but even though it looked like she was concentrating very hard, she couldn't actually hear what was happening. But she was there in the stands, supporting Artie.

And then, suddenly yet slowly, Artie woke up, Britney Spears's name on his lips.


	13. BrittanyBritney -Anesthesia, Effects of

Once the drugs had seemingly worn off, Artie made his way back to school. He had left his Calculus homework in his locker, and Mike had sent him a text asking if he would pick up his tennis shoes from the locker room. So Artie headed to the locker room, where he saw Finn.

And, truth be told, the drugs hadn't completely worn off. Without thinking – although he'd been telling himself to think and rethink more the entire past two weeks – he rolled up to Finn.

"What're you doing?" he asked. Yep, still high.

"Oh," Finn said, curious to see Artie there. "I'm, uh, going to run some laps." To be honest, he was wondering what Artie was doing. There in the locker rooms, that is. "I'm going to get in shape and get back on the team," he said.

"That's what I came here to talk to you about," Artie said. The drugs were still working. But he couldn't stop himself. "I want on the team too."

Couldn't Finn tell Artie was out of his normal state? Artie later wondered. Then he reconsidered – he had been acting strangely all week.

Why was he there? Right, Mike.

"Everyday Tina and Mike's Asian Fusion grow stronger." NO! That wasn't what he had wanted to say. Mike's BOOK, not his girlfriend. Ugh, racist again. He'd have to apologize to Tina again …. but how to do it without her asking about why he'd been acting so weird?

"Look," Finn said, clearly uncomfortable and not 100% sure why. "I want to help you, dude," he started. He couldn't look Artie in the eye. "But I kinda have to take care of myself right now."

Artie, with a lot of concentration, was able to keep his mouth shut. Because he understood. And he didn't actually want to be on the football team. Better alone, right? Right?

He nodded at Finn, who simply said, "Sorry," then stood up to walk away.

Artie lost his concentration at that point. He whipped around.

"I had a vision at the dentist," he said, way too loudly. "You and I were out with the team, playing football. We were unstoppable," he said. Who was he talking about now? Him and Finn… or him and Sam?

"I just know that if we can show what I can do to" Sam, he thought glancing towards Sam's locker, "Coach Beiste," he said aloud, looking back at Finn, "she'd put me on the team."

_And he'd want to be with me,_ Artie thought. _No, better alone, better alone,_ he tried to tell himself.

Finn didn't have a chance to answer, because Coach Beiste herself walked in. "Show me what?" she asked.

"I…" Artie glanced at Finn. Once again, he couldn't back out. "I wanted you to reconsider putting me on the football team."

"I'm not with him on this one," Finn said.

"Well you should be," Beiste countered. She felt guilty about what had happened last week, so without thinking of Artie's disability, she continued, "I need you to help him get his uniform."

_Wait, …what?_ Artie thought. He wasn't sure if it was the anesthesia or reality he was experiencing.

"What?" Finn asked. And he was sober.

"Don't just stare at me like a donkey with a wooden leg," she told them. "Go see the equipment manager and you boys get out on the field!"

The coach tossed Artie shoulder guards.

"Practice starts in five minutes!"

"Thanks coach, we won't let you down!" Finn said, a huge smile on his face. He was back on the team.

Artie was smiling too, but for a whole other reason.

"Come on, go!" Coach Beiste urged, and the two friends rushed out. This time though, they were much more enthusiastic.

Artie wondered if Sam would be there – he was – and completely forgot Mike's book.


	14. BrittanyBritney - Cheerful, much?

News spread quickly that the glee kid in a wheelchair was on the football team. Artie didn't notice or mind the chat and stares; he'd gotten his first good night's rest in since last week.

It was Thursday, and he was all dressed up for his presentation in Economics. Glee club was first block. They too, had heard the news.

He rolled in to hear Quinn saying, "I was pretty sure Artie's legs don't work."

"Did you get a leg transplant?" Brittany asked him.

"Nope," he said. "My teammates can push my chair like a battering ram."

"Yep," Finn added. "There's no rules against it, we checked."

"And I have Britney Spears to thank," Artie said. Actually, he had general anesthesia to thank, and he knew it. There also wasn't a doctor's confirmation allowing Artie to play the game, but Artie wasn't going to mention it or worry about it. Nothing could shake his cheerfulness. He was still experiencing a natural high from spending an hour in the same general area as Sam Evans, and he knew that this was going to become a regular occurrence.

"You're welcome," Brittany said.

"Britney plus Nitrus gave me an amazing idea. And it gave me the nerve to tell Coach Bieste that Finn and I both really want to be on the team." The whole class was listening now. So, as it often did, the focus of the conversation drifted away from Artie and to the topic of Finn being on the football team.

Artie didn't care, but was happy to answer Puck's question about the frequent occurrence of these Britney Spears fantasies.

It was a really cheerful explanation. "It only stands to reason," he concluded, sighing at knowing love wasn't hopeless after all.

Then, Mr. Schue came in and announced that they were changing their plans for the assembly. Last minute. Again.

Instead of the Christopher Cross medley they had been preparing, they were singing a Britney song. They'd need a rehearsal afterschool and tomorrow morning to learn the new choreography, but they were used to that. It'd happened enough last year.

What was actually odd though, was that Mr. Schue was going to be performing with them. More than that, he was going to be singing lead.

Brittany would be singing too, but that actually just made it…. creepier. But oh well. It was something.

Actually, it was Britney.

And that was better than Chrisopher Cross. You know, for the target demographic and all.


	15. BrittanyBritney - Assembly

The assembly was right after lunch. New Directions was as ready as they'd ever be. Mr. Schuester was acting weird, but everybody acted weird at some point.

Artie had been talking to Nate, the accompanying guitarist, when Mr. Schue came backstage and told them to get in their places.

They did, and, other than being only slightly less sexual than last year's assembly performance, everything went utterly smoothly.

That is, until the fire alarm was pulled. All of a sudden, a stampede started – which was scarier than the thought of fire itself.

The rehearsal they had that afternoon was the first normal one Artie had had in a while. He wasn't out of it, he wasn't overly cheerful, to quote the three bears, he was just right.

Sure, he was thinking about what he was going to finally tell Tina, but mostly, he just listened to Rachel's song, and appreciated it for just being a song.

And then, afterwards, Finn gave him the announcement that their first game was going to be next week.

It was just a friendly, but it was to get them ready and test out their skills for the season.

"We can see how you're battering ram action works in the game," he told Artie. "It'll be totally awesome!"

"Yeah," Artie said, but his smile faded once he realized exactly what was happening. A game.

"I gotta go, man," Finn told him, heading off to meet Rachel. "See you next week, okay?"

Artie nodded.

His parents couldn't find out he was going to be playing a game. They couldn't find out because the doctors couldn't find out. Artie was pretty sure Beiste had forgotten all about the paperwork he needed to sign to be a part of the team. He began to calculate.

As long as they played only home games, she wouldn't have to worry about his paperwork, because she wouldn't have to organize a bus. In other words, he had it figured until it got serious.

He just had to make sure he didn't do anything of note, and that his parents didn't see the lineup of the game.

He was going to stay in the team, because it was currently his only access to you-know-who-the-hot-guy-he-was-crushing-on, but no one could know.

That is, no one who could get him kicked off.


	16. Grilled Cheesus - Invisible

Artie spent the week up to the football game getting ready. For the game, of course, but also for right after it. Artie wasn't playing for the greater fame, he wasn't playing so that the team won, he was playing because Sam was on the team and this fantasy had slipped out of his mouth. And somehow come true.

Now committed, Artie wasn't going to not play. He had to play. He even wanted to play, well, kind of.

But his parents couldn't know.

Artie had devised a plan with Nate – whose parents didn't let him play football or any sport because they wanted him to stick with their so-called 'higher values' – the sciences, history, literature, and classical music. Needless to say, they didn't know he played drums because he liked to. They didn't actually know he played drums at all. In other words, Nate was an expert at all things hush-hush.

Which is why it was he Artie approached about his plan.

"I heard you joined the football team," Nate mentioned to him before Toxic, only a hint of jealousy in his voice.

"Yeah," Artie said. "I don't even know how I managed it," he admitted. "But I actually wanted to talk to you about that…"

Of course, then the assembly had started and they just hadn't gotten a chance to finish their conversation. Artie had been planning to just bring up the need for some sort of cover, but the news of the impending game sped the process up.

"Wait, why do _you_ need to hide your being on the team?" Nate asked him.

"Same reasons as you," Artie said.

"Really?" Nate asked. "I didn't peg your parents for being that type."

"What type?"

"My parent sort of type."

"Oh." Artie replied. "Turns out they are," he lied. "Trust me. Why do you think I have no free block?"

"Because you're a sophomore," Nate said. "Sophomores don't get free periods." Nate was a junior, and used his period to rock out on drums and get high in the hinter fields of the school.

"Okay – whatever," Artie said. "They're strict. I need your help. Please?"

"Fine man," Nate said, after a second's hesitation. "In fact, I have just the plan."

The plan was as follows – the game being Thursday and all, Nate would invite Artie over for a sleepover. Their cover was that they were working on a project together at school, but that was the only time they could meet. Because they also both had a 'test' the next day, it made sense for Artie to come over to Nate's house to study.

Nate could stay at school and practice drums, Artie could play in the football game. No one would be any the wiser.

Artie had persuaded Moe to let him take the sports-chair.

"Wait, why do you need it if you aren't in the team?"

"I'm warming up with the team," Artie said. "You know, laps around the field – it's just a good time to hang out. Some of them push me – because it's a good work out for them and I like going fast, but it's really hard in a chair that's not suited for agility or sports. Besides, my mom says a new chair would be good."

"I thought she meant like, an everyday chair." Moe looked suspiciously at Artie.

"No, you misunderstood," Artie said. "This one is good."

"What about paperwork? Dr. Hale's approval?'

"It's rolling on grass. I'm not actually part of the team, so there's no paperwork to fill. Come on, Moe. For me?"

"If I find out anything different –"

"It's on me. I swear. We can sign a contract, if you'd like. Just… may I have the chair?" Moe eyed Artie up and down. "Please?" Artie tried.

He got the chair. But he had to sign a paper saying that taking it was all on him. Artie was becoming rather good at the whole lying thing.

Thursday morning, Nate stopped by Artie's locker to remind him.

"No big plays, okay?" Nate said. "No scoring, tackling, anything. Be the invisible player."

"Got it," Artie said. Besides, he figured Coach wasn't going to let him play much anyway. That is, he hoped he would play a little, and just well enough to impress Sam, but only enough to impress Sam.

And then he would become invisible.

"You won't even know I was there," Artie assured Nate. "Invisible."


	17. Grilled Cheesus - Game On

It was game time. Artie was incredibly nervous, for a plethora of reasons.

But there he sat, in the football uniform – number 34 – and in his chair. The sports chair. That he had basically stole. It made him want to puke.

Or maybe that sensation came from the stench of the locker room.

Or the butterflies in his stomach.

Either way, he felt nauseous.

And then, they were running out onto the field. And then they were on the field. It all happened so fast.

Finn had taken charge of Artie, once everybody had realized Artie couldn't actually maneuver a game. They had realized this by right after the whistle was blown to start, and Artie had just sat there watching the flurries of red uniforms – home team – clashing with the gold.

Coach Bieste had pulled him out, and gave him a little pep talk.

"You get the ball, you hold it tight. I tell you to do something, you do it. Finn tells you to do something, you do it. Sam gives orders in a huddle, you listen. Understood?"

"Yes," Artie said. "Ma'am. Yes Ma'am." Artie would listen to anything Sam said to him, to be quite honest.

"Okay, I'm putting you back on the field after the final break, you understand?" Artie nodded. "Finn – we're going to use the battering ram idea. Finn will guide you down the field – hopefully ball in hands, and – boom – touchdown. We win. You understand?"

Artie nodded. Actually, he didn't understand what she had said, but that was only because he didn't really understand football. No one in his family really watched the sport, except for his sister, Rebekah. And even she only did so occasionally.

The final break came and went. Artie found himself in the huddle.

"Finn, I'll get the ball from 17 and pass it to you. You take Artie and barrel down the field. Me, Mike, Puck, and Johnson will cover you guys."

Again, Artie didn't actually understand anything about the game, but he more than understood that Sam was talking.

"Break!" they all yelled together, and Artie was back in the game.

Artie wasn't actually doing anything, but he felt the rush of the game. For the first time, a couple guys of the other team brushed against him, and suddenly, the ball was in his hands.

"Don't drop it," Finn muttered, as they sprinted down the field, dodging people left and right. "But when we enter the end zone, you throw it down onto the field as hard as you'd like."

Artie vaguely understood. It was just like Coach Bieste had said. Throw the ball down, gain the final point.

It actually was mostly a blur, but Artie did exactly as instructed.

The ref blew the whistle, the crowd erupted in cheers.

"Touchdown!" he seemed to hear Finn yell. "Thank you grilled Jesus!"

Artie was Jewish, but he was pretty sure that Jesus had been crucified, not grilled. Oh well. He was happy to have helped Finn score a touchdown.

Helping someone score a touchdown was impressive and invisible, Artie decided. He had done perfectly.

That's what he was sure of, until Sam passed by him and Nate while they were waiting for Nate's mom to pick them up.

"Awesome job on the touchdown," Sam said to Artie. "You totally won us the game."

"Thanks," Artie said, smiling up at the blonde leader. Football leader. Person. Hem. _Smooth,_ he thought to himself.

After Sam had left, Nate whipped towards Artie.

"You scored… a touchdown?" He clarified. That was when it finally hit Artie, whose eyes widened. "You scored a touchdown?! What happened to being invisible?!"

"I-"

"Shh-" Nate cut him off. "There's my mom."

They got in the car, and once they were on the road again, Nate's mom started up the small talk.

"How did you're trial go?" she asked pleasantly.

"Well," Nate said. "Artie messed up the first trial, so now we have to kind of fix the whole set up," he lamented, staring Artie down.

"Oh dear," the mom said, looking genuinely concerned. Then, "Will it affect your grade?"

"No, no," Artie spoke before Nate could. "We fixed it, we figured out a way. It will hardly be noticeable. The teacher won't even know it happened."

"Isn't that academically dishonest?" she asked them.

"What he means to say is, Mom," now Nate spoke, "that it will be _everywhere_ in our lab reports."

"Right," Artie said, gulping after he realized what Nate meant. "But if we work a little bit more before… studying tonight, it will fit smoothly into the lab. The teacher won't be able to read, to read into it. It really was a minor mistake. Completely accidental."

"Well then," Nate's mother said. "If that's the case."

"I wouldn't call it _minor,_" Nate told them. "But yeah, with even more work tonight, we'll have it covered."

"Good," she told them, and smiled proudly at her son.

Once they were in Nate's room, having eaten dinner and cleaned up, the two boys set to work. It took practically all night, but with the help of Red Bull, Doritoes, and Grapefruit, they managed to put a bug in the school's system, delaying the publishing of any reports of the game. It was a juvenile bug, Artie and Nate had only had the Code Writing class for one semester, but it would hold. To be safe, they shut down the WiFi at Artie's house.

"This will last through Saturday morning. Any hype about your touchdown should've died down by then."

"That long without WiFi?" Artie sighed, rubbing his eyes, tired from all the screens. "Really?"

"Think of it as punishment for not being invisible," Nate told him.

"Fair enough," Artie said.

They got about an hour of sleep. But at Sabbath dinner on Friday night, Artie's parent's mentioned the WiFi glitch.

"Let's not worry about it this evening," they decided. It was Sabbath after all.

They didn't look into it on Saturday, because it had fixed itself.

"Strange," Artie heard his mother mutter. But neither of his parents said anything. Artie the football team member did not exist. He was calmed, until he remembered the game next week.

"Invisible," he reminded himself. He had through Thursday to figure out how to make it happen


	18. Grilled Cheesus - Jeez Artie

On the weekend, Artie found himself in the midst of a discussion with Tina once again.

"I saw you make that touchdown on Thursday, congrats," she said. "Were your parents excited?"

"Wha- Why were you there?" he asked. He had hit the first true weak-spot in his plan, a weak-spot which took the form of a strong female who happened to have a boyfriend on the team and who liked to know everything about everything and who's friends were friends with his parents.

"Mike was playing, duh," she said. "Anyway, you're parents? I can't believe they let you play."

"Ha," Artie gasped, nervous. He wasn't sure how to respond. "I can't believe it either."

"Artie?" Tina heard the nerves in his voice. "What do you mean, exactly?"

"You know…" his voice trailed off.

"Actually, I don't know," she said. At his silence, she exclaimed, "Do your parents even know?"

"Well…." he was trapped. Once again.

"Your parents don't know? Artie?"

"Not really."

"Jesus Artie," Tina began, fully exasperated with her friend she had once understood so well. Now, Artie was a big mystery to her.

"What does Jesus have to do with anything?" he tried, maybe shifting the conversation away from him. It was true that he didn't understand why Jesus was now a part of every political discussion. Or any discussion in general. But he also knew that Tina, as a Jew herself, had always used the phrase 'Jesus' because she didn't have a strong spiritual connection to him.

"Artie what were you thinking?" Tina remained right on track. "How are you even playing without permission?"

"Beiste sort of … letting me on the team was a spur of the moment decision. She forgot, and I haven't bothered to remind her."

"Artie!" He heard his friend sigh on the other side of the line. "Why do you want to be on the stupid team anyway?"

"It's not stu-"

"Come on, Artie, it's a team with more than enough people and mostly full of homophobes." Artie thought about that. True enough. And yeah, that could be a problem because, as he was beginning to realize, Artie was at least a little bit homo. But then he realized: "How come it's okay for Mike to be on the team, but not me?"

"Oh, I don't know, because he has permission from his parents?"

"But it's still a stupid team of homophobes for him?"

"Well, yes. But he isn't going behind anyone's back to get on the team. You aren't on the team for me, right?"

"You-?" Oh right, the lie. "No," Artie responded. "I'm not."

"And it's not for the abs…. so what then?" Tina was completely bewildered. Artie had never been interested in contact sports before, he had never liked the football team… it just didn't make sense. "Listen, Artie," she said. "I'm off to the synagogue now – are you and your family coming?"

"Not today, both Mom and Dad are at work." Artie's family went to service a lot less often than the Cohen-Changs did. It was a liberal temple though, Reform, so this wasn't frowned upon.

"Okay," Tina said. "Well, I'll talk to you tomorrow?"

"We'll see," Artie said, already planning to avoid his problems once again. "PT tomorrow."

"Right," Tina said. "I'll call you anyway."

"Mhmm. And Tina? Please don't mention this to anyone. The permission slip thing."

"Fine Artie, look, I really have to go," she said. "Bye,"

"Bye."

Artie hung up. Problem avoided. Kind of. For now.


	19. Grilled Cheesus - Not Sam

When Artie arrived at the Choir room on Monday, he saw Tina and Mike already sitting down on one side of the room, Tina using a foot to keep an empty space open in front of her. For Artie, presumably. Noticing this, he went straight to the other side of the room, sitting in front of Cheerios Brittany and Santana instead. It goes without saying, perhaps, that he hadn't talked with Tina on Sunday.

Finn opened the class with an announcement. "I can't really get into it," he was saying, "but it's shaken me to my core."

"Oh my god he's coming out," Puck said from behind.

"Why yes," Finn said. Artie started. His mind began reeling. _'He's coming out, he's on the football team, I wouldn't be alone… I could maybe…'_ but he stopped as Finn continued. "There is a man who's come into my life."

_Not Sam, not Sam, not Sam_, Artie thought to himself. _Anyone but Sam,_ he thought.

"That man is Jesus Christ," he heard Finn say. Artie hadn't thought that 'anyone but Sam' could go awry. But he was strangely disappointed. He couldn't decide which was worse, Finn and Sam…. or Finn 'coming out' through Jesus Christ. Or something like that. He eventually, somehow, decided, full of this weird feeling of contempt, that the Jesus Christ situation was worse.

"That's way worse," Puck said, confirming Artie's thoughts as a fellow Jewish man.

"I know there's others in here who dig him too," Finn was saying. Artie rolled his eyes. He knew what was coming. A week of serenading Jesus. Artie was not into the idea. At all.

Discussion erupted, once again, between Glee members. Kurt was against the idea of anything related to church, Mercedes and Quinn were both completely on board with the idea of a tribute, most people were somewhere in the middle, Finn must have noticed Artie slumping in his chair or Puck rolling his eyes at the situation.

"Got a problem with Jesus?" Finn almost yelled out.

"Oh, I got no problem with the guy," Puck immediately retorted. Artie nodded in agreement. "I'm a total Jew for Jesus. He's my number one heap." Okay, here Artie didn't exactly agree, but Puck went on. "What I don't like seeing is people using J-money to cramp everybody else's style. Because it seems to me that true spirituality, or whatever you wanna call it, is about enjoying the life you've been given." This is, more or less what Artie believed. Puck went off on a tangent about making out with girls, but Artie thought the point had been fairly made.

Rachel and Puck debated the making out point, but Artie was more than happy to jump into a non-Jesus related song by Billy Joel.

"Really?" Artie heard Quinn mutter as Puck started. He turned back to her.

"Aw come on Quinn," he said. "It's Billy Joel!" Both Artie and Quinn shared a love for the music of Billy Joel. Artie flashed her a smile, which Brittany responded too.

_Odd,_ he thought, turning away from Brittany. But as he turned he was sure he noticed a smile forming on Quinn's face too. Puck saw the smile and ran up to her.

Artie went up to dance, and soon almost everybody followed, Tina included, and everyone was doing cheesy dance moves.

Finn didn't join in, and neither did Rachel, who was still looking at him perplexedly and asking "Jesus? Christ?"; Kurt was sitting somewhere in the back on his phone, researching alternative Sound of Music sing-a-long options. But otherwise, the class was unified in non-religious song.

Artie would've hung around to tell Puck how much he agreed with his points of view, but he saw Tina heading over to question him, and so rushed out to Psychology instead.


	20. Grilled Cheesus - Kurt, God, & Mind

Artie found out the news that evening, from his parents. Kurt's father had had a heart attack, and had been taken to the hospital where they worked. One of Nancy's friends and fellow surgeons, Dr. Albert Wen, was the head cardiologist and the surgeon for Burt Hummel.

"Send him our love, if you get the chance," his Dad suggested. "But if he wants some time alone, that's fine too."

Artie nodded. He went to bed thinking about Kurt, and how he knew that a lot of the glee club members would be sending him prayers, and how he wasn't sure if that would be what Kurt wanted.

And he wondered more about God. Kurt's mother had died, his father had almost died. Was that really fair? Did fairness have anything to do with God? Was that why Kurt didn't believe?

To be completely honest, Artie wasn't sure he actually believed either. He believed in something, and would probably best define his beliefs as being somewhere between agnosticism and Judaism. Artie would always be Jewish, because his mother was Jewish and so it was something he was, just like he was White, just like he was US-American. But as to the religious aspect, he knew he was allowed to interpret as he liked.

Artie felt there was something out there that he didn't understand. It might just be the universe, space and time, it might be what we call 'fate', or it might be God. He had spent a lot of the summer thinking about this, discussing with Quinn on their walks in the park.

"I just… don't understand how there could be just two options, in anything. Heaven or Hell, you know? Maybe it's my Jewish upbringing, but I don't really believe in that." He and Quinn had often discussed their religious beliefs.

"There has to be… something," Quinn had told him. "A reason to be good, a penalty for being bad."

"But where's the line, Quinn?" he had asked. "What ultimately decides if someone is good or bad? What if I'm only slightly less good than you – like, one sixteenth of a millimeter, do I go to hell? I don't understand how something can be one thing or another."

"I don't know, Artie," Quinn had said. "But there is a heaven. And a hell."

"Fine," Artie said. Everyone can believe something. "But why is God always a dude?" Artie had never understood this.

"Because he's our lord," Quinn said, matter-of-fact.

"Come on, Q, that's no answer," he had replied. "Why can't she be our lady? Why must God have a gender? Is God human? No, right? Why isn't God all of us, all of our genders? Or, alternatively, none of them?"

"What are you getting at, Artie?"

"I'm just saying I don't imagine something all-powerful taking human form. If God is perfect-"

"God is perfect."

"Then why would he or she or xyr or je or they take human form? We're far from perfect."

"What is God then, if not like us?"

"Not like us. Nothing. Something. God. But what is God? We don't actually know. But God isn't anything we can comprehend. Of that, I'm sure."

"But we know God! We know He is our Lord and that He saved us with the Son who He made in His image." Artie could hear the capitalizations in her voice. When he was about to refute this argument, she stopped him, smiling. "We should stop arguing about this," she said. "It's bad for conversation."

It was more than just conversation, though, Artie said, as he imagined a Drag Queen ruling the sky. All Artie knew that the world was far from perfect, and it wasn't that way because or in spite of a god. It merely was. They were all merely humans, each trying to figure out the universe.

Just like Artie was a boy, trying to figure out his sexuality. He was afraid of oppression, but he was also afraid of not realizing who he was. Was the oppression God's fault? God's followers? He didn't know.

But he did know, that, when he had been in the accident when he was little, and he had briefly awoken in the ambulance, he had prayed to God. There had only been ER workers there, but he, a boy of just 8, had asked God to take care of him and his mother. To help the doctors. But especially to help his mother. Maybe it wasn't God. Maybe it was just fate, or the universe. Or whatever. But Artie wasn't sure he could say he was agnostic, because he had turned to God in his time of need. And he knew he always would.

Because that time, when it had mattered the most, God, or the universe, or fate, had answered.

The next day, Artie arrived with the rest of the club to see Kurt already sitting there. Tina was hugging Kurt, so Artie moved away to sit at the side. Kurt was being given love, he figured, and he didn't want to talk with Tina about the football team.

When Mercedes called Tina and Quinn to the front, Artie reflexively leaned away as Tina passed by. He felt bad about it, but he really wasn't ready to tell her – or anyone – the real reason he so badly wanted to join the football team.

Kurt was ready to tell his classmate how he felt about God though.

"You've all professed your beliefs, I'm just stating mine," Kurt said, defensively. It wasn't quite true, not everyone had been vocal about their spiritual beliefs. But Kurt was certainly allowed to profess his. "I think God is just kind of like Santa Claus, for adults," he said. "Otherwise God's kind of a jerk, isn't he?"

Tina glanced at Artie. She had once thought the same thing about God, but she still believed.

"I mean," Kurt went on. "He makes me gay and then has his followers going around telling me that it's something that I chose." Artie looked down. He agreed with Kurt's speaking his mind, and with many of Kurt's beliefs. But he wasn't sure about the anger. "As if someone would choose to be mocked, every single day of their life. And right now, I don't want a heavenly father. I want my real one back."

"Look, Kurt," Mercedes said. "How do you know for sure? I mean, you can't prove that there's no God."

"You can't prove there isn't a magic teapot floating around on the dark side of the moon with a dwarf inside of it that reads romance novels and shoots lightening out of its boobs… but – it seems pretty unlikely, doesn't it."

Quinn was shaking her head. This reminded her all too much of the conversations she had had with Artie that summer. She reiterated, "We shouldn't be talking like this," glancing to Artie. And then to Kurt, "It's not right."

"Sorry Quinn," Kurt said, getting up to address the class. And then, like Artie had suspected he would, he told his bandmates: "I appreciate your thoughts, but I don't want your prayers."

Artie wondered if he and Kurt were the only two Glee club members who didn't completely and totally believe in God when the entire Glee club – that is, minus Artie – attacked Kurt for going to the school board.

Because Kurt did have every right to speak his mind. And it wasn't like singing off of school hours was something difficult for them anyway. Besides, Artie had larger, more important things on his mind than just religion. The football game was tomorrow, and Nate couldn't have him over afterwards. Artie had no cover story prepared, no back up plans.


	21. Grilled Cheesus - Nancy Abrams' Son

Tomorrow always arrives too soon, it seems. Once again Artie was on the field before he had time to come up with a good plan. He had just hoped to not be played that night.

So far, it was working. Beiste had her best and most experienced players on the field, which left Artie sitting next to her. Perfect. He was able to watch the game – and Sam – without actually being in the game. And the game was going well. They were winning and everything.

That is, until Sam had the ball, and then didn't. "That's not my play," Beiste muttered. Sam had been running with all of his talent and grace when one of the huskier guys from the other team pinned him to the ground. Artie swore he heard a crack.

Beiste ran over. Artie only could make out some of the words. "That's what happens when.." she was saying. And then the assistant coach: "We need to get him to the ER."

"Coach Beiste!" he called, rolling as fast as he could with the quick moving people. "I can ride in the ambulance with him. You need to stay here and I wasn't going to be played anyway-"

"Are you sure?" Beiste said. Artie nodded. He wasn't sure what had possessed him to volunteer, but he at once knew it was the perfect plan.

"My parents both work at the hospital – they're there now. I know my way and it's good for me anyway. Sam too – I can make sure he's in the best of hands until his parents arrive."

They had reached the ambulance.

"Does someone need to go with him?" the coach shouted at the paramedics.

"No," they said. "But it's usually a good idea. One person," they told her.

"That's this guy," she said, pointing at Artie. "Thanks, kid," she told him.

Artie nodded, and started to follow the stretcher into the ambulance. He was stopped though, presumably over worry about space. "A wheelchair kid?" one of the paramedics called to the head.

"Say it's Nancy Abrams' son," Artie suggested. They did, and suddenly he was welcomed on board; space wasn't a problem anymore. The doors closed and they drove off.

"Nancy Abrams?" Sam asked as one of the paramedics prodded him.

"My mother," Artie said.

"I figured," Sam replied. "But why did that matter?"

"She's head surgeon at the hospital. They weren't sure about taking me on, because of space reasons, but –"

"But we'll do anything for the Abrams family," one of the paramedics said. Artie smiled at her.

"So… you're rich?" Sam tried.

"Oh," Artie said. He could see that something about the idea of being rich was off-putting to Sam. He didn't want that. "Not really…" Artie's voice trailed off.

"We help them out because they's a good family," the paramedic told Sam. "They always help others first, even when going through rough times themselves. It's kind of lore."

"Lore?"

"Legend. The story of-"

"Can we not tell the story?" Artie asked. "If that's okay. I mean, I don't want to, em, bore, you."

"Sorry, Mr. Abrams," the paramedic said.

"Don't apologize," Artie said. He wasn't sure if this had been a good idea. Now he was sounding like a spoiled prince or something, in front of someone who was clearly not attracted to that. "How's your shoulder feel?" he asked Sam, trying to change the subject.

Sam started to shrug, and then winced. "That wasn't a good idea," he said.

"Well, at least it's an easy fix," Artie told him, and tried to smile. The paramedic concurred.

"How did you know my parents weren't there?" Sam asked Artie. And once he looked at him, he didn't break eye contact.

"Most parents weren't there tonight," Artie said. "It's a minor game, a friendly. I just figured."

"Oh," Sam said. His eyes were still locked on Artie's.

"We're here," someone announced. "Would you like a chair?"

"A chair?" Sam didn't know what they meant, but realized after a second. "Oh, um, no, thank you. I'm fine walking."

"I can take him from here, if you like," Artie told the woman. "I promise I know the way. Take a break before your next call?"

"Thanks," the woman told Artie. "You're in good hands," she assured Sam.

"I know," Sam said, smiling back. If Artie were the type to blush, he would've blushed. Thank goodness he wasn't , though. That would've been embarrassing. "Is the ER a long ways off?"

"No, it's right around this corner," Artie said. "Are you right or left handed?"

"Leftie, why?"

"You injured your right shoulder?" Sam nodded. "Just making sure you can write. You know, fill out the forms."

"Oh, right," Sam said. "And you-?"

"Hmm?"

"Left handed or right handed?"

"Right handed," Artie told him. "Here, take a seat – I'll go grab you a form."

When Artie brought the form back, Sam immediately thanked him, and apologized. "Sorry I'm so out of it right now," he told Artie.

"No worries," Artie said. "It's the adrenaline. From the game and combating the pain and everything. Besides, I think you're doing charmingly. Sorry about the game though." Artie wasn't sure about the use of the word charmingly. Too flirtatious. Maybe.

"Yeah, me too. That guy really came out of nowhere."

Artie nodded, and just sat there as Sam filled out the form.

"What do I do when it's done?" Sam asked.

"Hand it in. I can do that," Artie offered.

"Thanks," Sam smiled at him. When Artie came back, Sam had one more question for him.

"Have you ever dislocated a shoulder?"

"Me?" Artie asked.

Sam nodded. "Who else?" he laughed.

"Oh," Artie said. He gave Sam a good look. "Yeah," he finally said. "I have."

"And?" Sam asked. "How's the healing process? The pain?"

"Well, they have to pop it back in. That's … uncomfortable. Then it's sore and weak for a while –" Artie realized he was painting a dismal picture. "But in the scheme of things, it heals quick," he wasn't going to add that it was a minor injury. Artie didn't belittle others' pain. "You'll be the star football player again in no time."

"Thanks," Sam smiled at Artie. "Thanks for riding with me too. Nice to.. finally get to talk to you a bit."

"You too," Artie said, but couldn't go on. Sam's name was called.

"That's me," Sam said. Artie nodded.

"Do you need me to wait here or…?"

"My parents are coming," Sam said, as he stood up. The nurse came to escort him to one of the side rooms. "I'll see you at school?"

"Yeah," Artie said. "See you there." He was giddy inside.


	22. Grilled Cheesus - Heart to Heart

After a second, he realized he should probably get out of his football clothing before going and waiting for his parents. He knew nearly all the nooks and crannies of the hospital, and found a place to store his shoulder pads and football jersey. He'd pick them up tomorrow when he had his bag.

Changed, and back to 'normal', he found himself humming a merry tune as he rolled through the corridors, now just in a grey t-shirt and his shiny red shorts.

He still had an hour before he needed to meet his parents, so he texted them, saying he was at the hospital and to text him when they were ready to go - and then decided to take the long way. He went through every corridor he was allowed in. Maternity – he took a second to peer at the newborn babies; bones – he passed a lot of people with casts; and then he got to cardiology. He saw Kurt sitting outside one of the rooms.

"Hey," he said, slowing to a halt in front of his fellow choir member.

Kurt looked up. "Oh," he said. "Hey, Artie. Are you here to pray for my dad too?" He seemed miffed.

"No," Artie said gently, and smiled. "Actually I'm on my way to see my parents."

"Oh," Kurt said, sitting up straighter. "Are they okay?"

"Yeah," Artie said, realizing what Kurt had asked. "They work here. I did want to know if your dad was doing okay though."

"No change," Kurt told him, sinking back into his chair. "Thank you for your concerns."

"And how are you doing?" Artie asked. "This must be… really stressful. I can't even imagine, really."

Kurt shrugged. Then, after a pause, "No prayers, then?"

"Nah," Artie said. "I'm agnostic myself."

"Agnostic? So you don't know what you believe?"

"Not quite. I believe in something, but I don't assume to know what that something is."

"So… you were raised without religion?"

"No, I was raised – I am being raised – in the Jewish faith."

"So you're like me then. Thinking for yourself. Pushing the bullcrap away."

"I wouldn't call it that," Artie said. "I mean, I do push the superficial stuff away, I suppose, like full faith in the holy texts or blind faith in anything. But I mostly just listen to everything, and then take what feels right."

"But you don't believe in a god?"

"I don't know. I believe in something. Something that I don't and could never hope to understand, but something that I'm sure is there. And if some people call that something God… well, that sounds like as good a name as any to me."

"You have to believe or not believe. There's… not some in between. You don't get the easy way out."

"Look Kurt, I'm just telling you what I believe. And what I know is, there's no a or b, black or white, there's everything in between. The world's made up of spectrums, not boxes. And yeah, I guess I fall in that spectrum. But I don't think that not choosing a box means I have it easy."

Kurt looked Artie up and down. "Right," Kurt said. "Sorry." And then, "Why haven't you given up on God? Of all people?" He paused to rephrase. " 'Given Up' is probably the wrong way to say it. Why do you still believe?"

Artie shrugged. "Because I've never felt abandoned?" Artie tried. "I don't know. Life being tough, or whatever, doesn't equal evil, doesn't mean there's nothing out there, you know? I mean… when… when I've been in tough situations, when I was, well, dying, I guess, I asked for help. I guess I needed the belief that there was… something greater watching over me. And as an eight year old kid, that could've been anyone really, but the person, thing, I remember asking… was God. And I remember I was so scared, so worried I was alone … I guess it was just comfort that I wasn't."

Artie's phone lit up.

"You're phone-" Kurt said, and pointed.

"Oh, thanks," Artie said, switching it off vibrate. "Sorry. It's my parents. I forgot to pick up a chicken."

"A chicken?" Kurt asked. "That was random."

"For Sabbath evening – tomorrow. My family always has dinner together."

"Mine does too," Kurt said. "Usually. But it's not for Sab-? For religious purposes."

"Sabbath. Yeah. I don't know if mine actually is or not. A bit of both, I guess. But I can't remember a Friday where we haven't had dinner together. My Dad is cooking tomorrow's dinner, and he always makes chicken. There's a kosher supermarket near school, but with the game and all, I forgot to pick one up."

Kurt nodded. "How'd the game go, by the way?"

"I don't know how it ended – but we were winning until Sam got his shoulder busted."

"Sam?"

"New kid. Quarterback. Chiseled." Artie paused, unsure why he'd added that last bit. "Sorry," he said. "I should get going."

"Right," Kurt said. "Good luck regarding the chicken."

"Thanks," Artie said. And then: "Text me… or whatever, if you want to talk. Otherwise, we're thinking of you and your dad. Sending our love."

"Thanks Artie," Kurt said.

Artie nodded at his friend, and rolled off. In his 'football' chair.


	23. Grilled Cheesus - Chicken

"Why were you at the hospital, again?" Artie's Dad wanted to know.

"I was watching the football game," Artie said. "Sam, the quarterback, got injured, just a dislocated shoulder, and his parents weren't there, so I offered to ride with him."

"And the coach didn't go because…"

"It was a crucial game," Artie said. He was glad his parent's didn't know anything about football or football season. "Losing the quarterback was tough, so I persuaded her to stay. Sam's my friend, so I thought I'd be helping him out."

"And you were in training clothes because…?"

"I was training, that is, working out, with the football team. A lot of them are in Glee, so it's good bonding time, you know?"

His Dad looked at him through the rearview mirror.

"And that's why you are using-"

"The sports chair. Right."

"Why didn't you tell us about this before, honey?" his Mom wanted to know. "The chair. How did you manage to get this behind our backs?"

"You had asked Moe for a new chair anyway. I thought this was what you meant." Artie was kind of sweating, but was doing pretty good so far with plausible lies.

"It wasn't," Nancy Abrams replied, sternly. She felt sure her son wasn't telling her the whole truth, but she didn't know how to ease it out of him.

"Well, I can't give it back, now that I have it," Artie said.

"We understand that," Benjamin Abrams told him. "Which is why we are baffled that we had no clue about the situation."

"Is the training safe?" Nancy wanted to know.

"It's laps, Mom," Artie told her. "Sometimes in the grass. If I get tired, the other guys can push me, you know, good workout for them."

"Not too fast?"

"Never too fast," Artie said.

"Bonding time?" his dad mused.

"Bonding time," Artie said. That part, at least, was true.

They pulled into the parking lot and got out of the car.

"Where's your other chair?" his mother asked him.

"At school." Again, Artie didn't have to lie. "In Coach Beiste's office, it's safe, don't worry."

They entered the house.

"I just wish you'd told us," each parent said in their own way. "You shouldn't be keeping secrets like this. I don't know why you felt you had to keep this a secret."

"I didn't realize I was being secretive?" Artie tried. "Mom. Dad. It won't happen again." Artie crossed his fingers behind his back. "I promise."

His parents just nodded.

"Go shower," his dad said. "You smell."

Artie smiled at his dad. "Alright," he said.

As he turned away, he overheard a bit of his parent's conversation.

"Bonding time is important. It's good for him to be one of the guys."

"I know. And it's good he's helping out friends."

"Exactly."

"I just wish-"

"Me too."

"I don't understand it."

"Me neither."

"We don't have a chicken."

"I know."

"That boy…"


	24. Grilled Cheesus - One of Us

On Friday, Kurt sang a song by the Beatles, "I want to Hold Your Hand."

On Saturday, Artie ignored messages from Tina.

On Sunday, he went to physical therapy. "I'm glad you told you're parents," Moe said. "I feel much comfortable with this all out in the open. They took it okay, it seems?"

On Monday, Finn sang about losing his religion in Glee club. Some people, including Tina, were upset that they were now allowed to sing songs about having no religion, but not songs about having one.

On Monday, Burt also came out of his coma.

To celebrate, the club planned a song for Tuesday: One of Us.

During the performance, Brittany put her hands around Artie's shoulders. Later, Santana did too. It was a little unusual for them, but people were always putting their hands on Artie's shoulders, because of his height, he supposed.

Sam had added him as a friend on FaceBook. Artie figured that was a good sign. Friends, that was something.

Even though his parents now knew about the chair and the training, Artie was avoiding Tina. After all, his parents didn't know he was on the team. And even though he was now friends with Sam, he couldn't tell her that it was something more than that. That he wanted it to be something more than that.

But he missed having her as a friend. She used to be his main confidant. She still was, he supposed, but he wasn't telling her anything. It was him, not her, he supposed. He'd talked with Kurt more openly than he had with her. With Quinn. With Finn. He'd talked with Sam.

But they weren't Tina.

It was nice, Artie thought, to hear her voice again, without feeling the need to shy away from it. Tina had a beautiful voice, after all. Artie was proud to be her friend. He was sad he was having a difficult time showing it.

"What if God was one of us?" Tina sang.

Artie wondered. He had no idea who God would be. He just knew it wasn't him.


	25. Duets - New Developments

The rest of the week was rather mellow, all things considered. The club eased out of religion and back into 'normal' songs, whatever normal was. Artie was still avoiding Tina, which he felt bad about, but he couldn't stop himself, for some reason.

Sam hadn't been going to practice, so Artie himself had skipped a couple of sessions, partially following pleas of his parents, but mostly because Tina was right, he didn't actually care for football.

On Saturday, he made plans to watch Avatar again with Quinn, like they had in the summer, so that when Tina asked him if they could go to synagogue and then hang out, or just hang out, or whatever, he could honestly say he was busy. Plus, Artie had decided, in part, thanks to his Psychology class, where they had been studying the science of attraction, that he needed to increase his desirability. Because the person one dates or hangs out with usually is of equal attractiveness status, in physicality and status, hanging out with a hot, blonde cheerio – power and attractiveness all at once – was surely a good way to do it.

Not that Artie wanted to date Quinn, exactly, he knew she wouldn't be into that. Or that he only saw her as a hot, blonde, cheerio. He did see her as these things, but mostly he saw her for what she actually was: a good friend. Who also liked the movie Avatar. Artie had been practicing his Navi, and so was ready to impress her. It didn't quite work, but Quinn laughed and threw popcorn at him, and they sat on the couch and talked about this and that and life in general, played some Halo, and then she went home.

Artie wasn't sure how much this 'playdate', if you will, would affect his attractiveness in practicality, but he was fairly sure the theoretics behind it were sound.

On Monday, he laughed some more with Quinn in the choir room. Quinn was drawing more of her caricatures, a favorite hobby of hers. Artie suggested she draw all of them in their Navi/Avatar forms. "You're so weird," she told him.

"Yeah right," he said. Quinn looked down in her book to begin doing such, but before Artie could retort or get a glimpse of her sketches, Mr. Schue came in with an announcement.

Artie turned around and locked his chair as Mr. Schue told them about Puck's going to Juvie. Artie turned his head to mutter to Quinn, "So that's why he wasn't on Halo."

"What did he do?" she asked Mr. Schue.

At this point everyone began arguing about this and that, and so, once again, Artie zoned out. His mind stopped wandering though, when a certain athlete with an injured shoulder strolled into the room.

"Our New Member… Sam Evans," Mr. Schuester was saying. _New…. Member?_ Artie tried to process this in his mind. This was too good to be true.

"Hi," Sam was saying. "I'm Sam. …Sam I am," _totally cute,_ Artie thought, as Sam's eyes met him. He smiled at the lad. "And I don't like green eggs and ham," Sam said, smirking and looking away.

Artie did his very best to suppress the huge grin on his face, resulting in him just kind of staring at Sam.

"He has no game," he heard Santana say. But Artie thought quite the opposite. He looked at Sam, and then blinked away when he realized Sam was also looking at him.

Finn went up to officially welcome Sam to the group, and, unfortunately for Artie, directed him to a seat that was not, well, next to Artie.

Mr. Schue began talking about duets, and Artie found it, once again, very difficult to concentrate. He was too busy thinking about how to use this new and improved glee club situation to his advantage. Lucky for him, Artie zoned back in right when the competition – singing a duet with a fellow glee club member – was announced. The prize? Dinner for two at Breadstix, a local eatery.

Artie open his awe in sheer joy of perfection of plans. If he duetted with Sam, and won, they would have a paid for date. It was perfect. Almost. Artie couldn't contain his joy. Well, hardly.

The stars were aligned. Or so it seemed.


	26. Duets - Speaking in Code

Sam had been really nervous about joining glee club, for a variety of reasons. But he was happy he had. He felt it had been a pretty positive response, overall.

This feeling of positivity was strengthened by one of the members – Kurt, he thought it was – Kurt's prompt and enthusiastic arrival at his locker following the rehearsal. The guy spoke so fast it was kind of hard for Sam to keep up with what he was saying, but Sam was a lot more acute than he'd ever let on.

"Hi. I'm Kurt Hummel," the boy confirmed his name, holding out his hand. Sam shook it, careful to play it cool. Sam was supposed to be popular, therefore, cool and collected, above glee club and any nerves that came with it. Sam, carefully and cautiously, did his best to play the part. "I just wanted to personally welcome you to the glee club," Kurt said.

"Thanks," Sam said.

"Just tell me."

Sam had no idea what he was supposed to tell Kurt. This was getting awkward, and Sam liked to avoid that. He shook his head.

"Look," Kurt said, taking a step closer to Sam. "I have three natural gifts. Voice, the ability to spot changes in men's fashion, and knowing when it came from a bottle."

Was this some sort of code? Was Kurt gay? Was he asking if Sam was gay? Could he really tell that Sam's hair was dyed? So many questions. Sam decided to err on the safe side, in case it was a code.

"I don't dye my hair," he said, even though he had. Kind of. But he felt that was the best way to let Kurt know he didn't want to be known as gay.

"Yes you do," Kurt took another step closer. Sam felt his innards clench up. This wasn't good. Maybe it was the cologne Kurt used, or else the code they seemed to be using, but Sam had the feeling Kurt was gay, even though his hair looked naturally coloured.

And, for a gay guy, Sam had pretty lousy gaydar. Even for a closeted gay guy. But Sam had full intention of staying that way. Closeted, that is. For now, at least.

"But just between friends," Kurt had gone on, "that's not natural." Sam wasn't sure they were friends, at least, not yet, and he didn't want to share that information – hair dying or otherwise, with anyone. And at this point, he felt he had lost track of the meaning of the code.

"I'm gonna go," he said, stepping away both literally and figuratively. Honest and cool, he thought. "Because you're kind of freaking me out."

But as he stepped away, Kurt followed him. "Maybe my instincts were a little off," Kurt said. Instincts. So they had been talking about sexuality. Either way, he wasn't being asked about being gay anymore. Sam's innards relaxed. "Let me make it up to you," Kurt said. "Team up with me for the Duets competition."

Sam wasn't quite sure how that was a fair apology. Besides, he kind of had somebody else in mind.

"Listen, unless you team up with Rachel, I am your best bet at winning."

Sam mulled the new information over in his head. "Aren't duets supposed to between," he wasn't sure how to test the waters, exactly, "like, a girl and a guy?" They were walking briskly through the hallway, so Sam didn't have to make eye contact with anyone and risk betraying his inner motives.

"Gene Kelly and Donald O Connell would protest," Kurt told him.

Sam decided the best course of action was to make no reply. He was aware of male duet partners, and now knew that the glee club was too. Now, how to let Kurt down without giving himself away.

"Make 'em Laugh? Singing in the Rain?"

"Sorry," Sam said, trying to end the conversation. Unfortunately, it was still a bit before his English classroom.

"1952?" Sam shook his head 'no', surpressing a grin. "Okay, maybe you are straight," he heard Kurt say.

"What?" Sam asked, a nervous laugh escaping his lips.

"Nothing," Kurt quickly said, realizing his mistake. Sam realized it too – Kurt had betrayed the code. On the bright side, he had successfully pulled a 'straight' cover. Although, Sam wasn't sure how 'bright' of a side this was, to be honest. Kurt told him to rent Singing in the Rain, call him, and then backed off.

Sam watched briefly as Kurt walked away, before turning and entering his English class. He had time to figure out how to let Kurt off easily.

Kurt seemed to be under the impression that they were already partners, but Sam knew this wasn't quite the case. Sam had someone else in mind.


	27. Duets - Cheeri-o

Kurt had had Home Ec with Mercedes, who had then had Calculus with Artie. Mercedes told Artie all of the news, from Sam being gay – "Well, I don't know for sure but Kurt seems to think it, and you know Kurt's gaydar" – to Kurt being Sam's duet partner –"I mean, how could you say no to Kurt, aight?" – and how Santana had approached Mercedes about the same topic – "There's gonna be some odd pairing if this keeps going on," she said. "Do you have a partner yet?"

Artie shook his head 'no'. He was dismayed at the way things had taken hold. If Sam was indeed gay, that was a good thing, because it meant Artie might actually have a chance. But, at the moment, there was no chance of him even testing the waters – Sam was taken, even if only for duets, by Kurt.

"Well, find someone quick," Mercedes told him. "Or we all gonna be snatched up."

Artie nodded, deciding the best course of action was to continue his popularity, attractiveness, and status boost. He had just the Cheerio in mind. You know, the one he had spent the weekend watching Avatar and playing Halo with.

But it was a different Cheerio who approached _him_ in the halls that afternoon. Brittany S. Pierce.

"Hi," she said, when he finally realized she was waiting there for him. "So. I just want you to know, I'm really into you." Artie looked around though, just to check. Nope, no one else. He looked back at her, questioning.

It kind of made sense – she had become more touchy-feely with him recently, but he had thought that she had something with Santana. Or something.

"Sorry, I'm just a little confused," he tried to clarify, as he worked to make sense of the situation. "You've never even made eye-contact with me." He was aware this was a generalization, but he couldn't think of anything else to say. Her approaching him, in the scheme of things, felt rather out-of-the-blue.

"I know," she said, looking down. "For a while, I thought you were a robot." Also not exactly true, but it worked for her. "But now I realize you are even better than human, almost. You're cute. And talented." Both true.

"Thank you," he said. His Mom had taught him to receive compliments like a gentleman. "But why me? Why not-"

"Santana already has a duet partner. And I can't push her around."

"Push her around?" Artie wasn't sure what she meant.

"Like, I mean wheel you around. If we are dating, I get to do that. Like Tina did when you were dating her."

Artie was very confused. He had the perfect proposition in front of him: a highly popular, blonde and beautiful Cheerio, asking to date him. That would be the ultimate status boost. But he didn't want to date her. He liked her, but he had eyes for someone else.

"We can't just be duet partners?" he asked.

"Boyfriend and girlfriend is better," she insisted. "Then I get to push – I mean, wheel – you around. You'll be even better than Santana."

"So let me get this straight," Artie stalled. He was, at least, happy that she didn't want to push him in his chair without being officially affiliated with him. Personal space was an important thing. He still wasn't sure about dating her though, nor was he sure about her motives. "You… wanna be my girlfriend … because … you…" he looked up at her, only to see her smiling. "…like the idea of wheeling me around?"

"I just really wanna get you in a stroller," she said, and then put her hand on her hip to look especially appealing to the object of her advances. Like said object (who wasn't an object at all but actually a human, like her) Brittany had a habit of saying the worst things when attempting to sound convincing.

Artie smiled, looking up at her. It wasn't a happy smile – he hadn't actually heard that last line, if he had done, he would've thought twice and backed out, but he had been overwhelmed by the new idea forming in his mind.

Why not date her?, he thought. Dating goes by so quick in this school, it would be over before he knew it. It would raise his status, and therefore, attractiveness, much quicker than just being 'friends', and besides, he did think she was attractive.

"Okay," he finally said, to find her immediately grabbing the back of his chair. The action had surprised him, and he'd lost the ability to speak for a moment. Were things moving too fast?

At least she had waited for his affirmative on the dating thing. He was pretty sure that had been the motivation for her actions. He needed to check, though. "So I get to tell everybody that we're dating?" Artie asked Brittany, a bubble in his voice as she wheeled him around the corner. He hadn't meant it to sound like that, he had meant to merely confirm the deal was official. He worried that the bubble in his throat would show his ulterior motives.

But Brittany wasn't Tina. She didn't recognize his lying voice.

"Yes," she replied, distracted at the sight of Santana in the halls. "And I get a duet partner."

They paused for a second before continuing down the hall.

"Everything okay?" he asked, when she gave no reason for the pause.

"Everything's grand, boyfriend," she replied.

Artie gulped. He hoped he could handle wherever things were headed. It all seemed to be flying far too far out of his hands.


	28. Duets - Locker Room Vine

Sam found out via the locker room vine that glee club member and cheerio Brittany Pierce was dating Artie. At learning of this, Sam had, finally, accepted Kurt's offer. This was a new development, but, for some reason, everybody seemed to think it had long been set in stone. Finn himself approached Sam in the locker room to talk to him about it.

"Look, I don't see what the big deal is," Sam said, and he really wished he didn't, although he was pretty sure he knew what people were getting at. "He emailed me like, 60 MP3s of him singing, and I thought it was Faith Hill." This wasn't a lie. "The kid's good." This was also true.

"Look, this isn't about how good Kurt is," Finn told him. "Being in glee club… It's… it's like walking down the double yellow lines of a highway. … If you get just a little off course, you're gonna get crushed."

Sam looked at the new Quarterback and Glee Club Captain as he took his cloths out of his locker. "Look," Sam told him now. "I gotta be honest – you're kind of confusing my head a little right now." He was getting mixed messages – from Finn, from everybody, and he was tired of it. Tired of thinking things are one way and then being told they aren't. And then they are. And then they aren't. Just knowing would be so much, well, easier.

"Do you remember what you said when you talked me into joining glee club?" Sam asked. "I joined up, because I'm new here, and you said it would make me popular," and I would meet people, he thought to himself, then aloud continued, "and now, you're telling me that it's gonna get me killed."

"Well," Finn said, "eventually you're gonna get popular from it, believe me, but until then, you gotta lay low, a little bit." Sam had sat down on the bench. "And singing a duet with another dude is not laying low."

Wait, so now he couldn't sing a duet with _any_ other dude?

"I didn't realize," Sam said, pulling his shirt over his head, "you had a problem with gay dudes." He hesitated, making sure his face didn't reveal anything, before he pulled his shirt from his face. He turned his head away from Finn as he adjusted his sleeves.

"I don't have a problem with gay dudes, everyone else does," Finn told him. Unfortunately, that seemed to be true enough. Sam just shook his head with a woeful sort of smile. "And we're living in their world," Finn reminded him. "And in their world, you singing a duet with Kurt is a death sentence."

Sam sighed. Loudly. What was he supposed to say? Maybe Sam didn't want to be out himself, but he did want to show that he didn't care for intolerance. He wasn't going to let other's homophobia affect him anymore than it already was. If Artie was taken anyway, Sam would sing a duet with, and stick with, Kurt.

"Well," he decided. "I gave him my word." Sam slammed his locker shut, before turning to Finn one last time. "In my world, that's that."

As he stormed out of the changing rooms, Karofsky and Azimio, two of the more homophobic football team members, to say the least, greeted him with slushies. Sam froze, using his hands to wipe the icey slush off his face.

Quinn happened to be standing right there. "First slushy facial?" she inquired. Sam, taken aback by the whole situation, managed to nod. "Welcome to Glee Club, indeed," she said. "Come, I'll help you wash up."

They went into the girls bathroom. As Sam hunched over the sink, Quinn made some comment about how the blue slushies were even worse. Sam couldn't quite imagine that. This one seemed pretty damn cold, yet the homophobic ice seemed to burn his gay skin at the same time. He was more interested in getting the ice off his face and figure out an aptly phrased metaphor when Quinn made some comment about Avatar and got his attention.

"I saw Avatar like, six times," he said, smiling at her in awe as she wiped his face down with a towel. He was curious as to how this beautiful, popular Cheerio could be into such geek-fabulous things. He watched her face as she chose how to respond.

She decided for the conservative, "Oh." Sam laughed. Quinn turned the subject back to slushies. "You'll get used to it."

"You're the head cheerleader," Sam started. "Why do you even bother with Glee club?"

"I like to sing," she told him. "And, fact is, those guys were pretty cool to me," she said. Sam looked down – so it was the people. That's why he had joined too. "And last year, when I wasn't on top…. What's the point of being popular when you can't do what you want?"

Sam agreed completely. Being able to do what he wanted, with whom he wanted, was the exact reason why he wanted to get incurably popular.

"Lor menari," Sam said, deciding to test her level of geek. She just kind of looked at him, with her same silent pause as before. "It means, 'You have pretty eyes.' It's Navi?"

Sam had learned all sorts of pick up lines just in case he ever got to go to a Comic Con convention (or similar). He hadn't yet, but he figured these would be useful for picking up the perfect guy.

"The Avatar language?" he tried, as it got really awkward. Yeah, he definitely wasn't a ladies' man. Quinn looked up and away, as if she was picturing something, remembering something. Something.

"Lor menari," was all Sam could manage.

"Thanks," Quinn said, finally. "I have to go to class. You should probably get out of the ladies' room before break."

"Right," Sam agreed. "See you at glee club?"

"Right," Quinn agreed. As he walked out, Quinn relished in the oddness of the situation. She deliberated whether or not she should introduce the guy to Artie, who had also learned some phrases of every geeky language possible.

She decided she would explore Sam on her own first. After all, she thought, he had pretty eyes too.


	29. Duets - Don't

Brittany had told Artie she would now sit next to him most of the time.

Sam sat on his own in the back, but at some point during Santana and Mercedes' duet, he had shifted a seat, to find himself next to Quinn. It wasn't Quinn he was looking at, or trying to get nearer to, but it certainly gave that impression.

Unfortunately, though, it seemed like Artie was happy with his duet partner. His girlfriend. They had seemed rather close in glee. Sam was disappointed. When he was disappointed, he worked out.

So he went and trained, being careful with his shoulder, mostly running and doing crunches (good for the abs), and then went to get clean in a hot shower. They didn't have any hot water at home, so this was a true luxury.

He was basking in his shower's watery goodness when Kurt walked in. He actually didn't notice until Kurt walked right up to the shower edge and addressed him.

"This is weird," Sam told him. "Guys don't usually talk to each other in here." Sam had been taught the no conversations in the shower rule from a young age, where he'd made the mistake of chatting – alright, occasionally flirting – with a guy once or twice. He'd learned his lesson, right around the time when puberty hit and began leaving, or, er, accidentally revealing, its mark.

"Well, this couldn't wait," Kurt told him. "I'm setting you free. You're free to do your duet with someone else. Someone the world deems more appropriate."

"Did I do something to offend you?" Sam asked. He didn't see himself becoming best friends with Kurt, but he legitimately didn't want to offend his first friend in glee club. Besides, he had a sort of curiosity regarding Kurt, an out gay guy at school, something Sam would maybe, one day, maybe, be.

"No," Kurt said. "No." Then, "It's not you, it's me." Great, now Sam felt like he was truly being dumped. Until Kurt said, "You've been honourable, actually. And I wish you the best. I just… realized," Kurt said, "that I need to sing with someone that matches my passion and talent level."

In the week or so – time since Sam had joined glee had seemed to become almost non-linear – that Sam had known him, Sam had learned when not to take Kurt's self-aggrandizing comments personally. He smiled, genuinely curious to know who the person Kurt held in equal esteem to himself was. So he asked.

Kurt though, didn't reply. Instead, he brought up the code. "You know, they make special shampoo for colour treated hair."

Sam eyed Kurt. What did Kurt want him to reveal? Because he wasn't going to tell him that he was gay, and he wasn't going to tell him he dyed his hair. He wasn't ready. To admit either.

"I don't dye my hair," Sam yelled, as Kurt turned and walked away.

"Uhhuh," Kurt called back.

Sam returned to his shower, his mind reeling. He needed a new duet partner, and he needed to find one quick. He also needed to know that Kurt wouldn't spread rumours that he was gay.

He was in the process of coming up with a plan when he realized he had been in the shower for a rather long time. Immediately, he felt almost guilty.

Hot water cost money.

Elsewhere in the school, Tina approached Artie in the hall. It was afterschool, and the halls were almost empty, but they were both on their way home.

"Mind if I walk with you?" she asked him. He eyed her up and down in response, then shrugged. She took that as a yes. "I've been worried about you," she tried. "Not telling your parents things isn't like you." She wanted to add 'not telling me things isn't like you' as well, but decided against it.

"I've been worried about you too," Artie said, after a couple of paces. "That you'd tell my parents about…" he couldn't bring himself to say it. It wasn't that he liked not telling his parents things, that he liked keeping secrets from Tina – although, despite what some may've thought she was one of McKinley's best gossip spreaders – heck, it wasn't even like Artie enjoyed being on the football team. At least, not for the football. But he couldn't have his parents know he was on the team, he couldn't leave a team where he got the opportunity to spend more time with Sam. Now that he was dating Brittany, now that he was her duet partner, it was highly unlikely that he would get to use Glee as a chance to spend time with the boy.

"…Football?" Tina finished for him when he didn't, as she held the door open for him to exit. She followed him down the ramp and to the gate of the school grounds. Once again, he didn't respond. "Look," she decided. "I won't tell your parents about your being on the football team if you finally tell me the reason why you joined in the first place."

It seemed like a compromise to her, and a fair one at that, but it has Artie's heart beat going a bit faster. He isn't sure which conversation scares him more – with his parents, about him joining the football team behind their backs, or with Tina, about Artie liking boys, and a specific boy who had only just joined glee club in particular. He decided he couldn't agree to her terms. But his disagreement sounded a lot more defensive and angry.

"What, blackmail?" Tina almost stopped in her tracks. They were almost off school grounds. "Are you my friend, or aren't you?" Artie continued. "If you are, you won't tell, and you'll also respect my need for privacy." They had reached the sidewalk that lined the school.

Tina was at a loss for words. She was trying to be a good friend, truly she was, but she was too shocked to realize that a good friend might tell that friend's parents about a health concern, too hurt and scared to lose Artie to understand that her compromise hadn't been blackmail, that Artie had been acting rather odd lately, especially to her. But she was too shocked to say anything. She just accepted what seemed like his anger.

"Aren't you going the other way?" Artie ask, crinkling his face a little bit like he did when he was disappointed. He swiveled around and shoved off. She watched as his Dad's car, the van, arrived.

Tina then turned away before Artie would have a chance to look back and see her staring. But Artie didn't look back. Looking back at her would've revealed how sick to his stomach he was feeling, about the whole situation.


End file.
